“ You humans have a saying. An eye for an eye; a life for a life. Well he owes me ten lives and I plan to collect. ”
|| a meme i'm too lazy to find || @vuulpecula
Human weighs on her shoulders like Atlas; onto her tongue like lead, pushing into her jaw so securely that it threatens to lock, to stutter, to sew itself shut. There are so many caveats, she thinks, so many ways to define herself and everything and everyone-- and Fox, too.
But they aren't here to discuss linguistic damnation.
She isn't sure what there is to discuss in lieu of it.
"I don't intend to stop you," she says without a trace of emotion, as if the very idea had been stripped from her words like salt from the earth. Eleanor looks near Fox, over the other's shoulder, anywhere but in the eye.
"To me, he is already dead." In all the ways that matter. "Let the moonlight shine your path."