storiesofwolves
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things we lost in the flames


Notes

middle of nowhere, finally you can breathe, nobody knows your name. the first in generations with fire and arrows in her veins; a prophecy and an ancient crown; belladonna worked in silver; flames licking a tapestry; wet blood on steel-colored silk; a gentle sword to soothe away the burns; promises made that are impossible to keep, fingers forever entwined.

(photo by _kiaarax on flickr.)


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