09-18-2018, 05:32 PM
☽ ☽ ☽
[color=#ac5847]"Who hurt him?"
Flames danced brazenly at her paws, growing and growing and growing in size until they nearly obstructed her from view, the smoke that rose from them threatening to smother her. She held steady as she stared at the crumpled form of Bastille, an unfamiliar wave of emotion cascading into her trembling form. Higher. Higher. Higher. The flames were getting higher. She could still see him though, could still see the blood that matted his body and that haphazardly written note. Sorry. Did sorry truly cut it?
She couldn't explain why she felt the way she did, just that she could barely contain herself. Her body was throwing itself into an imbalance as it attempted to maintain the fire and Fey felt the aftermath of that struggle via a sharp pain in the side of her head and the trickle of blood from her nose. Enough, and then, the flames were gone, leaving only a shaky witch in their place. [color=#ac5847]"I can find him!" She suddenly insisted, teetering on her paws, [color=#ac5847]"I can find him and everything will be okay!" But she hadn't been able to find her parents. They had been lost to her amidst a sea of the deceased- would the same thing happen here? No, she had to try. She had to.
But as she searched for that familiar thread of the other side, she found that she was far too weak and far too emotional to even attempt communication. That falter in control (as if she had had any to begin with, let's be honest) had taken too much out of her. It'd be hours, maybe even days, before she could search for him. But that wasn't good enough. She liked Bast, had been innately drawn to him... Why? Why was he gone? Why would someone kill him?
Feyre had never truly mourned for the dead until this particular moment in time, tears fresh and hot cascading over her cheeks.
[color=#ac5847]"You can't die..." She whispered, [color=#ac5847]"You were supposed to be my family."
Flames danced brazenly at her paws, growing and growing and growing in size until they nearly obstructed her from view, the smoke that rose from them threatening to smother her. She held steady as she stared at the crumpled form of Bastille, an unfamiliar wave of emotion cascading into her trembling form. Higher. Higher. Higher. The flames were getting higher. She could still see him though, could still see the blood that matted his body and that haphazardly written note. Sorry. Did sorry truly cut it?
She couldn't explain why she felt the way she did, just that she could barely contain herself. Her body was throwing itself into an imbalance as it attempted to maintain the fire and Fey felt the aftermath of that struggle via a sharp pain in the side of her head and the trickle of blood from her nose. Enough, and then, the flames were gone, leaving only a shaky witch in their place. [color=#ac5847]"I can find him!" She suddenly insisted, teetering on her paws, [color=#ac5847]"I can find him and everything will be okay!" But she hadn't been able to find her parents. They had been lost to her amidst a sea of the deceased- would the same thing happen here? No, she had to try. She had to.
But as she searched for that familiar thread of the other side, she found that she was far too weak and far too emotional to even attempt communication. That falter in control (as if she had had any to begin with, let's be honest) had taken too much out of her. It'd be hours, maybe even days, before she could search for him. But that wasn't good enough. She liked Bast, had been innately drawn to him... Why? Why was he gone? Why would someone kill him?
Feyre had never truly mourned for the dead until this particular moment in time, tears fresh and hot cascading over her cheeks.
[color=#ac5847]"You can't die..." She whispered, [color=#ac5847]"You were supposed to be my family."
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YOU COULD [B]RATTLE THE STARS[/b]
[div style="font-family: HELVETICA;font-size: 17px; color:#000000; LETTER-SPACING: 0PX; line-height: 99%;"]YOU COULD DO [i]ANYTHING, IF ONLY YOU [color=black]DARED