Karen Marie Moning discussion

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Amber
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Nov 11, 2013 08:37PM

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hey amber!
i think you meant this one..
"J
54
ericho Barrons buried his son in a cemetery on the outskirts of Dublin, after five days of keeping vigil beside his lifeless body, waiting for it to
disappear and be reborn wherever it was they were reborn.
His son never disappeared and was never reborn.
He was dead. Truly dead.
I kept a vigil of my own at the door to his study, watching him stare at the beautiful boy through the long days and nights.
The answer was so simple once I’d thought of it.
It had taken a while to find him flying over the city, but he’d finally soared in beside me, blacker than blackness, with his
Nightwindflyhighfreeeeeee comments and his old friend remarks—serene and smooth, chuffing the night air in small frosted puffs. The wind had
steamed like dry ice in his wake.
I’d asked a favor. It had been the best kind for a Hunter. It had amused.
It took Barrons and five of his men to get the beast from beneath the garage up onto the roof of a nearby building, safely restrained.
Once they’d been far enough away, they radioed me and I had my new “old friend” fly in and do what he does best.
Death isn’t nearly as final as a good K’Vrucking.
When he closed his great black leathery wings around the beast and inhaled long and deep, the beast turned into the boy.
And the boy died.
As if K’Vruck had simply inhaled his life essence.
After he’d suffered who-knew-how-many thousands of years, the child was finally at peace. So was Barrons."
i think you meant this one..
"J
54
ericho Barrons buried his son in a cemetery on the outskirts of Dublin, after five days of keeping vigil beside his lifeless body, waiting for it to
disappear and be reborn wherever it was they were reborn.
His son never disappeared and was never reborn.
He was dead. Truly dead.
I kept a vigil of my own at the door to his study, watching him stare at the beautiful boy through the long days and nights.
The answer was so simple once I’d thought of it.
It had taken a while to find him flying over the city, but he’d finally soared in beside me, blacker than blackness, with his
Nightwindflyhighfreeeeeee comments and his old friend remarks—serene and smooth, chuffing the night air in small frosted puffs. The wind had
steamed like dry ice in his wake.
I’d asked a favor. It had been the best kind for a Hunter. It had amused.
It took Barrons and five of his men to get the beast from beneath the garage up onto the roof of a nearby building, safely restrained.
Once they’d been far enough away, they radioed me and I had my new “old friend” fly in and do what he does best.
Death isn’t nearly as final as a good K’Vrucking.
When he closed his great black leathery wings around the beast and inhaled long and deep, the beast turned into the boy.
And the boy died.
As if K’Vruck had simply inhaled his life essence.
After he’d suffered who-knew-how-many thousands of years, the child was finally at peace. So was Barrons."