you never will . open , healing lessions

[Grimm]

Idle hands a tempting resting place for foul deeds — dark the work one may attend to, however, achievement belittling method to which it is reached. Stagnant they, a weathered stone caught between raging forces, upon dual sides war raged, internal struggle reaching critical point, loss and sickness plaguing among the snow. Too much, idle grown from need, break sought yet hope soured on tongue weighed with grief.

He knew best kept his placement within subterranean den, though the melt had begun chilling still the gathered frost, biting the wind tracing short strands. Notion disregarded with ease, unwelcome among thoughts grown heavy, a gentle fuzz that crackled with static white noise. Too many the new faces, those not welcome to the change of two becoming one driven to the safety shore offered, alone as he lingered outside. Exhaustion left eyelids heavy over pale green depths, reddened the nose once more rubbed at. Disregarded each comment over his worsening health, maintained only through once kept up facade, broken with disappearance he refused to deem a death.

Vision caught, attention once fickle settling on burnished and ebony creature that stalked snow blanketed shore with a dwindling grace, heavy grown under a burden upon himself taken, welcome for reasons child might only guess at. Such he would not do, however, uninterested in the practise or what prompted his change of course, simply accepting it. At the least no ill will was present where concerned other, new to this and trusted, welcome respite which drew tentative smile to shaking lips.

Progress was slow, threading through the few that milled about, clumsy grown steps once more even as hoped suitable the excuse the path was Treacherous, unknown that smothered beneath the snow. Distance still was there when suitable placement was found, heavy the manner Foam allowed himself to sit, drawn in close as he looked to the other with open eyes. He may bear no wish to enter the career path Vaas had come to choose for himself, curiosity was enough to at least necessitate participation, if not as a mere distraction from all that had transpired.

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I think I’m not quite ready to let you circle the drain. all the things we’ve broken can be puzzled together again, all your sums and your pieces are enough to clean up all the messes you’ve made

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code by Wisker