Jan 26, 2014
-saunters by and looks at the pond. She frowns a little, and looks into the basket that she was carrying on her arm. Without seeing the naiad, she extracts a waterlily and pushes it gently on the surface-
-His fingers were readied, the rage preparing to curl around the slender neck but the flower, the delicate bundle of memories lodged at the base of his skull, stops him-
Nere? …You are not her. Leave.