OPEN GRAVES @velxgraves
the land of velgrove yearns for blood.
it is a tale as old as time and in the marshes, or the quaint corners of the forest where the leaves return back into the cold embrace of the earth, it is the most apparent thing to a soul that's known death. there are two of them that day. fragile, ghastly things, forever irreversibly marred and torn by forces they will never quite fully comprehend. and like those apparitions cursed to endlessly wander, today they thread through the thick of the underbrush in search of what all mortals eventually come to want - freedom.
beneath distant rustling and the slow and purposeful exhale of the wind, mina holds her breath in some primal anticipation. her clammy hands cling desperately to a shoebox like a drowning man would to a straw, unwilling yet to truly let go of the memorabilia inside it. still, she straightens her shoulders, if only to save what she presumes is her last remaining bit of dignity in front of graves.
they've been walking for a while before they settle on the place - a mellow clearing, unexpectedly open amid the evergreen trees and on first glance infinitely unfit for rituals. she blinks and she swears that two children are rumbling in the grass, their laugher echoing distantly. she blinks again and the moment is gone. ultimately she settles on a thought: this is a graveyard in every way that matters.
she looks at him for probably the first time since they began their trek, inexperience flooding through her tone, "so. what now?"
and it dawns on her that she has now crossed an invisible line and began a journey that is too late to abort. a small, hungering part of her hopes she might find the same inadmissible comfort in him that she always does. another, less selfish and much more human, knows she is about to impart a burden on him that for many would be far too much to bear.
still, she persists. she has to. "i'm not much of a funeral person."
