heart heart head

violet. auburn. gold. the different hues of wildflowers that rose to caress along the depraved man's belly. depraved of family. of companions. of everything aside from the ever recycled doe carcass draped over him, grasping at his ribs: the only constant in his life. he had loved once, twice. but it had not lasted. the gods had not permitted. they had allowed him a swift dip into the luxuries of the rich but had also been so hasty to take it away. leave. they had told him. this is not the proper time. have faith. we will tell you when it is time to resurface. so he had.



and he had also returned. there was a stillness to him as his ill-matched eyes gazed over the sparkling waters of the sea before him. a stillness only time could give. it had been a long year away from alacritis, and he had naught to expect but heartache. beloved kapras?us surely grew tiresome of his fickle appearances. fragile kodda was most likely beyond finding. and he hadn't a clue of what the gods beheld him. or why they'd sought him to return. but here he was; appearing to be a seven-legged, two-headed frankenstein.