Details about A Dowry of Blood
A Dowry of Blood – You came to me when the executing was done, while my final gasps shook through bombing lungs. The inebriated singing of the pillagers floated towards me on the breeze as I lay in the blood-streaked mud, too anguished to even consider shouting out for help. My throat was dry from smoke and shouting, and my body was a delicate mass of wounds and broke bones. I had never felt torment like that in my life, and never would again. War is rarely brave, just unrefined and repulsive. Any left alive after the rest have been chopped down don’t keep going since quite a while ago presented to the components. I was someone’s little girl once; a town young lady with arms sufficiently able to help her dad in the smithy and a brain adequately snappy to review her mom’s shopping list on the lookout. My days were estimated by the light in the sky and the errands set before me, with week by week spoken mass in our little wooden church. It was a small presence, however a cheerful one, brimming with my grandma’s apparition stories by the fire and the expectation that one day, I would run my own family.