Silent as I grip the reins of the timberwing. Silent as the roots of rot pulse beneath my skin, trying to split through me in angry tremors. Silent, even, as right there at the center of my heart, something beats with agony. With wrongness. Like an artery was ripped right out of my chest, leaving poison free to leak through my body. Because she was ripped away from me. Silence is the only way to contain it.
