ɢᴏᴅ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ɴᴏɴʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇʀ .

                                                                          OH   MY   GOD    IM     SO    FAKE                                                                           BUT       IM       ALSO     SO     REAL                                                                           I LOVE BEING MULTI-TALENTED

I LOVED MY FRIEND. Delicate heartstrings threaded around my very soul, knowing deep within the confines of the dip at the edge of my mind it would never last– not at this rate. Not like this, never like this.

I WENT AWAY FROM HIM. Seeking solace in my decision, I would not glance back– for I promised on the desert winds I would be back to smile once again, just as my childhood was filled with. Small laughter. Small happiness. Small dreams.

THERE’S NOTHING MORE TO SAY. 

THE POEM ENDS, SOFT AS IT BEGAN, I wonder, at times, if my decision was right– to go out on my own, to trek the sands of time by my lonesome. When I think about those things the heartstrings suffocate me, stifle my desire, and, I remember why I’m doing this, because

– I LOVED MY FRIEND.

                                                                                ( SELECTIVE & PRIVATE OC )

And all she can do in response to the fire in his words. Understand-- to understand Ophelia was a task undertaken by many and not one had came out with enlightenment. Those who die are the ones who see, and the ones who live are the ones who stumble. Could he not see it? No, he couldn’t; and that’s why he lashed at her so. It only humors the witch, only makes her smile.

     “ Dear me, my tongue cannot be dumbed down by such words-- but, I        try, try try try-- you speak of tongues only two years past and I’ve        learned three in my white stained bedding in one year. Not mastered,        of course, but you-- ah, no you don’t. No you dont...

A quick shut down of her own making; slick and abrupt does it stop and eyes flash to full display as the presence of something awfully, dreadfully sinister. It didn’t take magic, it didn’t take anything except the absence of a heartbeat to stir the fear within her-- life is her forte and those without it are out of her grasp. This creature was something of that lineage-- it was almost embarrassing that she stands there; dumbfounded.

A bullet, some ghastly equivalent to rotten blood; and it’s pushed away so that she might meet her saviors gaze with those clear, emerald hues. She swallows, thick tar in her throat but the smile is present-- somehow.

     “ It’s really soft, I love that blanket a bunch! I always use it on cold days,        along with my ducky robe! “

A laugh, so sweet and chime-like rings in the air-- and those emerald hues flick to the grey above. How she yearned for the sun! A little sneeze and she’s brought back to the present, gaze snapping to the other once more.

Hey could u reblog/like this if you’re interested in interacting with a centuries old fox priest who doesn’t act anywhere near his age?