The Real Well Of Souls Was The Friends We Made Along The Way

the real well of souls was the friends we made along the way

Finally a good fucking use for AI.

Snippet from Family Tree, chap. 3:

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Clearing his throat, Ulthane avoids your gaze and continues, “Supposin' that's what I deserve...”

The night is silent outside the tree, but inside, the silence is a thing of tangible, touchable substance, its own entity.

Underneath your knees, you feel the maker's heart beat several times before his words really settle inside your eardrums.

“...What?” you return, soft as a whisper but laced with incredulity that turns the question sharp.

The maker doesn't respond for a time, enough that you feel the need to give his neck a nudge to try and push the words out. After another moment however, he finally draws in a long, tired breath and releases it all at once, ruffling the hair on your head and filling your nose with the scent of rust. A brief glimpse between his parted lips reveals that there's blood still lingering on his teeth.

“Mayhaps," he sighs, "A little pain's no less than what I've got comin' to me... y'know?”

No. You don't know. And you don't like the sudden shadow hanging above his comely eyes, half-hidden beneath thick, furrowed brows, nor the dismal stare he's aiming at a spot just over your shoulder.

Slowing your hand to a stop on the corner of his lip, you let your forehead pucker, broadcasting your worry like a billboard lit up by the side of the road. “Ulthane, you're scaring me," you whisper.

He hasn't the wherewithal to keep hold of a despondent huff.

“Isn't that what monsters're s'posed to do?”

I'll have pineapple and chicken

Do u have any requests?

Pepperoni pizza?