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Thieves

Rumi

The days wove together like a dream.

Time was irrelevant and flowed in and out, a tide of the ocean, sweeping her into the cool embrace while she tumbled with shells.

Sometimes she was present and able to listen and glean information.

Once, she heard HazelEyes questioning Sullivan’s motives, the same queries she’d asked herself over and over.

Sometimes she only felt a small burning against her skin as they bled her.

Stole from her.

It was a fleeting sensation before sweet oblivion lowered a gentle hand over her eyes and carried her away into the recesses of her mind once more.

Even Sullivan’s cruel features faded into a peachy blob of nothing behind her eyes.

Perhaps this was what death felt like and she would be welcomed into Kaelthor’s embrace soon enough.