Refuge Pg 2
Streak is brass, crass. She leans in real close, gets up in its face. The flesh don’t move much, but it opens its eyes. Heartbeat, one-two, one-two. Flesh is a girl, Streak sees. Outsider, but girl, wearing a dress that isn’t Streak’s style. Streak has got a rep to maintain, and the water damage doesn’t help.
In pain, in powerlessness, Zurisha feels the pitter-patter of tiny little feet. She hears the shouting of giant little lungs. Little fairy on her chest, she still dreaming? Little fairy with metal in her jacket and pink in her hair. Little fairy, little fae.
Brutus the mountain, he comes up close. The pretty little flesh be thin, so thin, he can scoop her up in his arms. Baby, baby, don’t say a word. Daddy’s gonna hunt you a mocking bird. In his mind he sings to her, he knows her name, he gives her light. Streak buzzes around his ears, but he’s lost in the flesh.
High above, near the source of the river, a man in ragged steel plate and chain crouches by a fire. He holds a pale, impaled arm up to the flames. His stomach rumbles. He waits, he waits for his dinner to finish. There is now enough food to go around.
(The attached image is the second page of the comic short Refuge, written by me and illustrated by Christina Beard.)
