CONTENT WARNING: Discussion of genocide, emetophobia trigger, mention of gruesome medical details
“She’s deeply genetically unstable. If I had to guess, something in the way the tribes combined when she was made has weakened her stomach lining, making her more susceptible to bleeding.”
“What’s an Archfae?”
CONTENT WARNING: brief descriptions of blood, religious trauma, mild psychological horror, familial death, survivor’s guilt
Maybe if she’d told Harpy to be more careful, or kept them on the river shore instead of hopping across the rocks in the water, or suggested an idea other than going to the water. Maybe if they’d brought an adult or moved slower or had a picnic on the shore instead of trying to move around and show off. Maybe then, she could’ve changed the outcome.
“Help me gain control. Power. Traction. I can make myself seem like I’m more than just a cat. I can look like a savior, a messiah. I just need you to do whatever you can to make it look like I’m more powerful than I really am, and I’ll handle the rest.”
“Don’t talk to strangers,” Sleepsong advised softly, looking utterly relieved that she was taking him seriously. The starry scar where one of his eyes should’ve been twinkled softly in the dark. “Don’t communicate with anyone outside the clan unless it’s absolutely necessary. Listen to your intuition, no matter what.”
CONTENT WARNING: Discussion of genocide, self-destructive ideation
“You know that goodness and rightness is so much bigger than just your little bubble.”
CONTENT WARNING: Discussion of child neglect, implied/referenced terminal illness
“What was it like when you were growing up?” Astrid asked Finner while he watched her weave some dandelions into a chain. “I know you were raised pretty much alone. Did you ever wish you had friends?”
Something in the pines calls to yet another denizen of a small town.
CONTENT WARNING: References to abuse and neglect
Nobody ever found Blue when he hid in the garden. Among the towering trees and thickets of brambles and flowers, it was easy to feel like he’d fallen into another universe altogether. Time and fear did not exist, and neither did responsibility or shame.
The second thing to hit Olifur was a surprisingly well-placed punch to the shin, followed by “HEY! EYES DOWN HERE!” in an indignant voice. Almost toppling over backwards in shock, Olifur clumsily caught her footing and looked down to see dark skin and a pointy red cap, hands on the little figure’s hips like a small child trying to be stern.