Sleek, tender hide covers such fragile bones. Fragile, fragile bones and none to say that it wasn't mine to break them, suck the tender living flesh out from beneath the beast's darkening, dampening fur. White as snow, yet ivory blades snipped into the fabric of it to pull out a dark crimson vein of life. Drip, drip, drip. The very essence of life itself contained in each little drop of red. Drip, drip, drip. The heat of a warm little head right next to mine would drive any man in his right mind to the brink.
Good think I'm never in my "right" mind.
Dim diamonds of light scatter amidst the tufts of floor, reaching in different directions with each tendril of wind aching to touch a moving target, aching to play more than just a splash or a ripple here or there. And, with the flecks of fall dotting the horizon, they would have plenty to play around with.
The river continues her wry giggling, carrying away the soft sounds of life being given to life. So. Yet another day, and for once... I'm not up to doing what I'm used to doing by now. Maybe that's what's made me soft, or what will keep me in some sort of perpetual cycle, always driving me to push harder, do more the next day to make it that much harder to let myself get diverted from what I'd set out to be in and of myself.
A beast. Perhaps, that was what I always was. And yet here, in the darkness of my mind, lies the ever vigilant question. What am I here for?
With eyes and ears wide open, the beast sinks down to rest.
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