When Wilona died, weeds and roots wrapped around her rib cage, sprouting flowers until they traveled down her throat. Her brown hair sunk into the Earth, traveling deeper and deeper until it met water, just as Denali's tears had stained at her cheeks years before.
When Denali died, his heart crumbled to ash, and shadows clung to his bones, lifting his weight so he moved gracefully, until he nearly hovered above the ground.
Her skin molded into the dirt.
His skin faded into the air.
Once, long ago, Death knelt his head before a lake reflecting the moon. He let go of reason, hope, even his old name. This is the story of how Death tried to live and love, turning love into a deadly thing. The aftermath of a broken heart is a beautiful and tragic sort of magic in itself. As a result, Death now came back for everybody that was anybody. Even if you danced like a dandelions seed, even if you loved with every fiber of your living being.
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In Death We Love
Fantasy"This is the story of how Death tried to live and love, turning love into a deadly thing." Delani was a young man of whom the Fates chose to be Death, their personal grim reaper that sought out the souls calling to him, aiding in the circle of life...
