Side Chapter: A Grave Conversation

Just what does pride truly amount to… if even you yourself do not adhere to the level of respect you have for yourself? 

As Amelia stood in place, beset by the stench of death and decay pervading through the very soil, the bed of grass beneath her feet sullying her gown with the winter dew of night, this passing thought strayed into her mind. The very question itself, as if holding her very being in high contempt… and for all the right reasons. 

For she chose to be here, did she not? To meet with him, to once more bear the agony of his company, and that inept, dopey look in his eyes whenever he looked at her. Like prey moments before their blood and guts would be strewn across the earth.

Every time she would meet his eyes, she couldn't help but be reminded of that notion, and how at times of great irritation, her claws would twitch in the face of such an enticing temptation… but then, gradually, ever so subtly, something strange began to happen.