Speaking metaphorically, of course. It's a habit that's hard to give up. One puff of breath is never enough. You'll find you want to take another.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Quem deus vult perdere, dementat prius
I was wrong. You were never my insanity, instead you gave my madness purpose. On the longest night of the year, Earth's shadows fall across the full moon and eclipse me. And only one wolf to howl.
By his own account he was a skinny, balding, unshaven collection of bad habits marinated in alcohol, although these days he is better shaved and doesn't drink. Partly as a result of this latter fact, he is morose, cynical and ridiculously - and to his own embarassment - soft-hearted in certain circumstances. He is almost certainly one of Nature's policemen; it has been said of him that his soul burns to arrest the Creator of the universe for getting it wrong.
He loathes kings, and hates undead and assassins. He is also unashamedly speciesist - he deeply dislikes trolls and dwarfs, but in an almost proprietyroial way, so that he has risked his life and badge to defend them merely so that he can continue to dislike them. He hates the city in the same way; it's his to hate.
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