Art by Froo!
I should be studying, but I can’t.
I’ve only cried because the inevitable has finally come crashing down and it just feels good to do it.
The following night’s sleep wasn’t as peaceful.
Those earlier confessions had stirred up memories that – while no longer nightmare inducing – were unsettling all the same. Vandrysse had expected this, however, wading through the detached recollections with a degree of irritation. It was better to let it play out rather than forcibly make them go away.
“It’s never too late, you know.”
I shouldn’t be doing this. But I am.
It’s still wrong. No matter if I’m in my furs, no matter if my back is to him, no matter if I’m saving his life by keeping him warm. We’re touching. It’s wrong.
I don’t need this judgment now.
[Just a little dream …]
[[I haven’t been keeping this thing updated! Older stories incoming. This is a result of being told to write a “happy” story. Vandrysse imagines how she’s going to handle her kids freaking out over closet and bed monsters.]]
Everyone has a skeleton in their closet.
“Hey! Vandrysse, is that you?”
… that voice …
“Why, it is! I haven’t seen you since … since …”
[[Originally written as a book for the Wordy Bird PC event, but since that no longer seems to be happening, I’m posting it here. Inspired by the koan, “Publishing the Sutras.”]]
“Don’t come any closer, Vandy.”
The priestess complied, watching as Maron snorted and whinnied – it was taking everything Karin had to keep him from bolting. Vandrysse knew full well what the war horse was capable of, and knew to keep distance from those hooves.