He’d been tethered like some broken and beaten falcon… twisted, trembling and shaking. He did not yearn to be free like the others. Her fingers, he wore like chains around his neck tightly winding each link of her sin deep into his flesh… He had fallen fearlessly into her grasp thinking he might find something that his brother could not, and her hands were crafty and cunning and of no comfort to him. Crimson ribbons and rivulets running down his chest… She cut too deep and could not drink her fill fast enough… She was vile.. fouled and freakish. Crucified and tortured, torn in tears he could find no bottom to his anger no pleasure to replace his anguish. She took all from him and left him a helpless heaving husk… and he thanked her for it.
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