She screamed out her anger, her rage and her grief.
The winds ripped around her, destroying whatever they could grasp in their wispy fingers and shredding anything that stood against them. Ice spiked out from her and were reduced to hard needles in the whirlwind.
She doesn’t look up to view the destruction she has caused, is causing. She doesn’t care.
In her arms lies her child, his eyes blank and his features slack.
Rigor mortis has not set in yet.
Written because when I’m tired and my head aches a certain way, this scene will not go away.
This was also written quite a bit ago and couldn’t decide if it would settle itself into my Former Guardian universe or not. It just sort of floats around my head from time to time and is incredibly depressing.