What they hadn’t realized was that they would have to do a lot more than just pluck away at my petals if they wanted me to wilt and die. I wasn’t a flower; I was the bronze fucking cow made in the shape of God in the heat of scorching fire. I was the statuette that mere mortals kneeled for reverence in hopes of a rainy day, and I was that same rain that bathed away their sins. I had forgotten the queen that I had been molded to become, so I would have to thank Ronan for the reminder.
