Snippet #2548591

The pitter-patter of rain against bamboo wood, her eyes awakening to a cold sting in the air. The world before her grey, lifeless - with nothing but the sound of wind prancing through the open doorways of her house. Her tiny form rose from the bed, though it never felt as though she'd awoken from her dream. Her grandfather stood in the dirt-road past the garden - the strange mountain man come to return again, as he so rarely did. But something was different now - he wept over bodies. The bodies of his only daughter and her husband, of her parents, now bloodied and left dead in the rain. And from that day he was a mountain man no longer.

***

"Do you remember how they died?"

His words cut like a knife through the warm hum of the insects in the air. Song turned to the man, her grand-fathers murdered, who over the last month had insisted on taking her in - teaching her how to unleash her power, with the knowledge that she'd only use it to kill him in turn. And indeed she would.

Song stared at Lun before turning away. "I don't remember a thing."

***

The pitter-patter of rain began to fade in, mixed with grey light and the feeling of wetness on her cheek. Song opened an eye, closing it almost instantly as a raindrop smashed an inch away from her black pupils. She rose to find the morning forest overcome by downpour, the large leafs above her dripping the liquids furiously.

"Good morning Song Woon," Tormand's heavy voice greeted. Song glanced over to the man who knelt by a tree-stump, polishing his weapons. "Don't you ever sleep?" Song murmured drowsily as she kicked her bedroll back and began to walk forward. Tormand looked up at her in confusion. "I have slept," He replied before sharpening again.