Songs I listened to while writing this chapter: Bored by Billie Eilish, Soulless Creature by AURORA, Older by Sasha Alex Solan, Chinese Twilight by Kalus Schønning
Rhydian;
The forest does not answer me.
It only watches.
It watches as I break open and crumble hopelessly.
The clearing is quiet in a way that feels deliberate, like the world itself has decided to step back and watch how I intend to handle this dilemma.
The air is thick with the scent of Gravemaw… warmth and comfort… Things I strived for. Things I earned.
Things that are about to be ripped from me by the woman I am starting to hate with everything in me.
She is standing in the middle of the clearing— posture composed, eyes sharp like she can see my pain but does not care, and lips pressed together like she's holding back an array of corrections and suggestions she could make– probably about my posture, appearance, or actions.
Alpha Liandria…
My mother.
Her presence alone feels like an invasion.
