it’s I R O N I C because one moment the worst monster you can find is staring at you in the mirror, and the next —- the reflection is shattered: shards impaled in skin, reminding you of the echoes of something you miss...something you felt FEARLESS in the face of ( it’s always easier when your the big bad wolf not when you’re the one wearing the hood ). maybe in this case the hood is more of a GLAMOR, something to ease those maggots feeding on all the paranoid little thoughts squirming around in her head; there’s always the need to watch her own back. to wonder if she should meet a fate so cruel the devil would weep...OR maybe she was cursed to a memory: death and faces that haunted even the most solace of nights. “ moosey, still all tall and...hair. ” she hums, a familiar tone to her accent only recognisable to those she opened the door too. although a cautious smile remained; there was no telling just how safe anyone was in this town. “ shame about all the precaution —- my own, that is. ”
@resilientsovl










