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    Open Turgor

    They held many images in preparation. Something to match the sound and carnage. Pristinely clean wasn't a thing they'd readied for. And that was worse somehow. That this creature took the effort to clean itself up, or...but who was even capable of such a thing? The elf...No. Not an elf. They'd...
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    Open Turgor

    You know what happens to the weak that move alone. – An unhappy thought from the midsection. Ribs may have been gone, but disagreements always came from the midline. Perhaps this new one would be known as Kidney with time. It throbbed in the right spot for it. And stones were a familiar...
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    Kindling

    Come on, let me take over only for a couple minutes. It wasn't like Woodsmoke to ask for things. No, you overstepped last time. You are not assuming control until we reach Songrest. Adem was having none of it. The rest of the choir didn't weigh in, but Adem remained in control and that was all...
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    Open Wishful Thinking

    A less angry soul would've felt shame by this point. But such was not his way. He didn't die fighting to bend to words and fears. „They yet live.“ Not as certain now. „There'll come a day when another noose is braided. And another daughter hides.“ Because you've not killed enough of them. That...
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    Open Wishful Thinking

    „The vessel wishes to be strong.“ Nod of an agreement. Because songs rarely wanted to be lost. But her next words came as a surprise. Because they weren't the words of a creature they were taught to fear. They were fear and weakness. And no one knew how to feel, except Woodsmoke: „So you cage...
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    Open Wishful Thinking

    They didn't flinch yet. But denying the fear wasn't really possible. Too many voters had written their feeling into the hair on their arms – upright. Their eyes, growing wider. „But we are afraid of you.“ Spoken in more voice than one. There were few things on which a choir could agree – yet...
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    Open Wishful Thinking

    And chiseled into they were. Right at the hanging rib. Whoever said loss felt like a hole or a gap had some more losing to do. Because it didn't feel like less – it was more, perhaps more than they could handle. But they couldn't allow it to fester, the golden taker was watching. And between the...
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    Open Wishful Thinking

    Vows lingered like heat. And danced, like the weave of their mind. Mbaba didn't speak. Because words were easy. Census was not. And you could not speak for a house before walking every room. Waking every soul. And they were all gathered inside. Getting them to face one another was a different...
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    Open Wishful Thinking

    The southern salt flats stretched endless. They knew what it meant. The long pilgrimage home would take them by the Bonewaters. Fitting given what they did. Who they took. Adem and Amra may have justified it through tradition and sacrifice. Made themselves sound like martyrs. But they were still...
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    its and bits

    The desert held stillness, but not peace. A drum holding breath. No wind or sand-song. Just the faint gurgle in Yira Bin Sale's throat, and the slow dark bloom beneath her tunic. Adem Bin Amra cradled her anyway. Held tighter as her breath thinned, as if pressure might coax out a few more...
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    Adem Bin Amra Bin Many

    „Mbaba.“ Someone said. And they didn't argue.
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