Storm Siren

I think some have to fight harder to choose good over evil because the evil’s got it out for them. And maybe it’s because those’re the ones evil knows will become the strongest warriors, recognizing true wickedness when it rears its head.

That this tragic war that’s been waged in and around each of us, this battle that’s gone on in our souls—that’s ravaged us and beaten us down and clawed away our humanity—has simply been evil trying to destroy who we are. Because evil knows what we will become: Stronger. Wiser. Unstoppable. Don’t let him take who you are. Make him fear who you will become.

You just put one foot in front of the other and ’opefully not in yer mouth.

Look, all I’m asking you to consider is that you have the power to change things. What if the reason you were given that power is to defend those without any? Both from external and internal harm. Like a shieldmaiden for your people.

He skims his fingers across my neck to move aside my long braid, and I try not to remember the protective look on his face from earlier or notice his earthy scent or the way my rib cage squirms as he leans in, like I’ve got a trapped butterfly in there.

Don't let him take who you are. Make him fear who you'll become.

My hailstorm tore them limb from limb.

I can’t do this. They’re going to know I’m a fraud.” “Everyone’s a fraud, you idiot. You’ll be same as the rest of ’em. You just put one foot in front of the other and ’opefully not in yer mouth. Now ’urry up cuz I’m missin’ my dinner.” But