You can't actually make this up, the one girl I suspected of nefarious leanings seems to simply just potentially be innocent. Whereas I am now informed that Kríea is a con artist with a high price on her head for her crimes in Dale. The man could have been lying of course. But as I stood over the ditch that is to be his final resting place. How could he have been? What purpose does it serve. Madness, absolute madness I tell you. This is the girl who I know for a fact to be naive, foolish. He must have been lying. He must have tricked her into his work. He confessed his own criminal leanings thereabouts. I should have cut off his cock and fed it to him but given this new information I just wanted it done with. My mind feels as though it is about to implode. Whatever her past she is surely not like that now even if were true. Right? I dispatched him suddenly. Ritually. The light went out of his eyes rather swiftly. It is interesting how fearless he seemed. So calm, so resigned to his fate as I verbally consigned him to it. Admirable. That is how I imagine I shall go when it comes to it. Death, is not to be feared. He did not deserve to put it off any longer and he knew it. I can respect that if not his actions. In any case, I have a grave to fill. His ridiculous words sullied the kill somewhat. Though it has eased some of the tension within me and I no longer feel the urge for violence.
Still, I have bigger problems. As Kríea sat and played with Sigstaeinn. The sight warmed my heart. To see her alive and well and happy even if for a brief amount of time. She still needs rest.
These feelings that plague me aside. I am the father of her child. Should I not love her? I nearly did once. I could again.
But presently I cannot escape something else entirely, and it is not Kríea of whom I speak.
That face, her soft skin. Blue eyes and brown hair. That smell of lavender. I find myself not caring about the consequences. I find myself simply yearning. It makes me grimace to even think of writing of my time spent with that girl. How is avoidance of her working out for you Seaver?
I need to grab a shovel. Perhaps I should burn the bastard on a pyre, I don't fancy dragging him out of the pit I trapped him in. He is a big fellow.
