[ When they make it back to the room, it is impossible to untangle herself from this sorrowful little clinging vine. She could forcefully shove her into her own bed, but that does not seem conducive here, she will have to coax this trailing plant into standing tall with patience. Ilde knows that. So she lies down in the bed with Angel cradled into her side, just like she lies down in the gardens with her ear pressed to the earth, to listen, to offer her love and her warmth. It is difficult for her to do the same with another human being. They are so different, so full of complication, resentment, disappointment. Madness. Human beings were all full of madness and cruelty, and for all of Angel's sweetness on the exterior, she knows something about her lies, many and vast.
She has refused to love anything she could not control for all of her life, and now she is here with a weak girl in her arms whose heart she may or may not have broken. ]
The thought of losing any member of my brood is terrifying.
[ She is here, this is happening, the only way to relieve the tension in her lungs is to let the ideas out. ]
no subject
She has refused to love anything she could not control for all of her life, and now she is here with a weak girl in her arms whose heart she may or may not have broken. ]
The thought of losing any member of my brood is terrifying.
[ She is here, this is happening, the only way to relieve the tension in her lungs is to let the ideas out. ]