[ Even in the short time it takes Alisaie to get from the front of the house to the back, things seem to escalate. The woman’s screams are punctuated by a sudden crash, yet more furniture overturned and broken, and the startlingly small cry of a child. A boy’s voice that begs in quiet pain for mercy, for her to stop, please stop, it hurts, what are you doing, please…
And then Alisaie bursts into the room, and two pairs of wide eyes snap in her direction. The woman, the source of most of the noise, is a hollowed-eyed, ragged-looking Highlander. She’s down on her knees upon the floor among the broken furniture, a bloodied kitchen knife clenched in one white-knuckled hand. Pinned beneath her other hand and the weight of her body… is Arenvald. An Arenvald of eight summers, or thereabouts, blood pouring down his face in wide rivulets from the knife wounds upon his forehead, mingling messily with the tears streaking from his eyes.
It doesn’t seem like he recognizes Alisaie just yet. He and the woman who could only be his mother just… stare at her. ]
ig here's that CW for abuse and maiming i mentioned
And then Alisaie bursts into the room, and two pairs of wide eyes snap in her direction. The woman, the source of most of the noise, is a hollowed-eyed, ragged-looking Highlander. She’s down on her knees upon the floor among the broken furniture, a bloodied kitchen knife clenched in one white-knuckled hand. Pinned beneath her other hand and the weight of her body… is Arenvald. An Arenvald of eight summers, or thereabouts, blood pouring down his face in wide rivulets from the knife wounds upon his forehead, mingling messily with the tears streaking from his eyes.
It doesn’t seem like he recognizes Alisaie just yet. He and the woman who could only be his mother just… stare at her. ]