What is left of the dead girls dog.

What is left of the dead girls dog. - Printable Version

+- Verdict Forums (https://forum.verdict.dev)
+-- Forum: In Character (https://forum.verdict.dev/forumdisplay.php?fid=14)
+--- Forum: Journals (https://forum.verdict.dev/forumdisplay.php?fid=15)
+--- Thread: What is left of the dead girls dog. (/showthread.php?tid=4389)

What is left of the dead girls dog. - Sweet - 10-17-2023

[Image: lanwrite.png]

[ The parchment is riddled with uneven creases from a constant folding and unfolding ; It's contents look more similar to chicken scratch than actual persons writing. ]

Aneria loved spiders. Not in a terribly creepy sense, but with a fondness enough that they must never be killed. I learned that the hard way when I had stomped a black widow to death in her tent one evening. She cried and cried, and wouldn’t look at me even the next morning. I thought he would be sent away for what he had done. But she wasn’t angry, she was mourning. So I mourned with her. I took care not to kill bugs after that - the spiders, especially - and that habit is filling me with dread in these moments.

I continue to find spiders in my sleeping quarters. I feel haunted by them. They don’t do much, what spider does really, but they linger by me one after another. Watching me.. Waiting for something, I swear they are. How are there so many spiders in the winter, anyways?

Sometimes I trick myself into believing it's her. That in her death, Aneria had somehow coaxed an army of house spiders to torment my peace, to punish me where I failed to protect her.

[ There’s a break in the writing, where a terrible sketch of a spider was attempted. It was crossed out several times. ]

If I’m going to continue acting like this, I might as well have buried myself with her.

Aneria is dead. Aneria is dead.

I know I need to find my own path and not try to walk someone else's. I need something to believe in and the faith of gods is entirely too uncertain for me to follow confidently.

I need something concrete to believe in. Or someone.

Someone smart, who wants to do good and won’t resort to the wretched underbelly of deceit and tricks to get what they want. Someone who knows what they want, too.
Honest, no matter how it may come across to those who hear it. Honesty is valuable even in the worst case.
Someone that will work hard to do something honorably, even if the dishonorable path is easier.
Who can fight if they must, but would rather try to understand a person before it came to that.

Someone who doesn’t exile an entire race for the actions of a handful.

Someone who cannot judge by cover, but by contents.

Maybe I could be that someone, with a bit of resolve.. Believe in myself, or something.

[ There's more sketching near the bottom but . . ]

[Image: sketch2.png]

[ The entire page was thrown in the trash soon after. ]