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Sinric the Wanderer (
thewidewideworld
) wrote
in
cook_the_rude
2016-01-20 11:55 pm (UTC)
no subject
Building like a storm, he feels himself seize, clench. His head snaps back, his spine tight as a bow strings.
He has no air to cry out, no breath to scream Hannibal's name although hangs on his lips. It's too much. Too much.
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no subject
He has no air to cry out, no breath to scream Hannibal's name although hangs on his lips. It's too much. Too much.