‘ weeping is for gods & martyrs, we cannot afford such luxuries. ’
Gods. She couldn’t remember the last time she had wept, not for others-- and much less for herself.
She had an oath she had sworn, and she would see it through until the very end. And yet, it left her feeling empty. Lonely, even. But not once did she pity herself, not once did she regret it.
Even if it left a bitter taste in her mouth, she would never weep.
Poppy rest the hammer over her shoulder, it’s weight was nothing compared to the weight of the thousands of lives she protected. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she hummed her response.
“You speak with a wisdom that few ever display. It’s enjoyable to speak with someone who isn’t a naive child, yet separates truth from melancholy and self pity. Well met.”
