#ofmaddogs: hawk.

[soulmissed]

@ofmaddogs: you bury enough secrets, the graveyard runs out of room. // gimme dramaasa from, hawk probably.

memes, accepting

there’s blood stains upon the tusk ivory snow. his fist, numb, lacerated, curled against a canvas jacket. august had every intention to obscure the wound. sadly, secrets have a way of cutting loose. he was tying a makeshift bandage across his hand, fabric knot between teeth.

you bury enough secrets, the graveyard runs out of room.

his head snaps toward hawk. thunderstruck look beneath chestnut eyes. (like when a dog buries a milk bone in the yard. like when a deer gets blinded by headlights.)

terse, drawling: “ did i ask? ”