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Falling Feathers Chapter 2
Chapter 2: Temporary Home
" Is he breathing?"
"I-I think so I didn't hit him that hard ."
"You could have just asked him to follow you, you didn't need to knock him out."
"He never would've followed me, Maka."
"How do you know?"
"Just trust me on this one."
Hace slowly opened a golden orange eye to see a woman looking down at him around the same age as Soul, with green eyes and shoulder length, dirty blonde hair. She was very thin and wearing a sweatshirt that was far too big for her with her messy hair pulled into a bun at the back of her neck as if she had just woken up.
Hace exclaimed in shock and sat straight up, then leapt backward over the back of the couch he had been placed on, and stumbled into the kitchen table where Soul jumped away to keep from having a mug of coffee spilled on him. Hace might now have been a meister, but he could tell that there was something about these two that connected them and immediately concluded that this woman
Falling Feathers Chapter 1
Chapter 1: From Darkness
Chrona lifted his head slowly from the blood stained wood floor, one eye closed in pain and his left hand clutching Ragnarok tightly. His vision was blurred, but he could still see a dark figure making his way toward an adult's corpse, his black boots echoing as they hit the long hallway of Chrona's home, and his cape swirling around his ankles, flaring out almost far enough to touch the wide elegantly dressed walls. Even at this distance Chrona could tell his spouse was dead, but the man was still headed toward the shape, so he was obviously not interested in them.
"No!" a small voice cried, echoing around the large room as a child, a few months short of two, shook his parent's stiff body as it lay motionless, eyes open, arms wrapped around him, and the slightest trace of a smile still etched on its face as the parent had died protecting their only child. Tears trickled from his wide eyes and over his cheeks as he snuggled in closer to the
Crown of ThornsShe wakes up with red staining her pillow
and the taste of blood like iron in her mouth
It stains her teeth and leaks from her lips, and as she
rinses her mouth out, she can’t help thinking that
it’s better than dirt and ashes
it feels like she’s wearing a noose
of broken promises and shattered glass
that tightens around her throat with every day that passes
She nails a smile to her face
and doesn't let herself think the word dying
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