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This was the problem with pain, he thought. It refused to be quieted. It devoured, the way flame consumed wood.
Beautiful things were often poisonous or useless
Death and pain were close companions, often twined around each other.
Monsters were unrestrained, unbound, and beautiful in their destruction. They could be slain but they would never be truly defeated.
was a risk, to love someone. To do so with the full knowledge that they’d leave someday.
