Loss

The man would recognize the distance that grew in those eyes and as hollowness consumed the woman no pity would be dredged from his hard heart. It was rage that set his veins afire and as meaningless chatter bubbled from the stunned woman's lips he would find he had neither patience to spare for her short sided perspective. And who wounded his pride, woman? his voice would roar against the static wind, the role of leader is to make difficult decisions and to throw away the livelihood of one's entire people for the sake of a manipulative young girl, whom is quite content with her new home, is foolish. his speech unwavering and alight with truth, We. Are. Old. Erani. not stayed by sorriness or the desire to please, Do not waste what is left on a causeless life. You may as well ask me to kill you now.



He would peer at her without emotion through the white smoke that had encased his facade in the presence of his hot breath. Unsure whether his words would wake her from her stupor or worsen it, the man would mutter a final word, come, before taking her by the loosest part of the neck and guiding her in the snowfall towards a wind-ward facing part of the valley where they would be sheltered from the bitter whip of it and perhaps dig a small nook in which to preserve their warmth and wait out the storm, in which she would have very much died in had she chosen to remain, wallowing in her grief.