The Keeper stole us from our homes, ripped our souls to shreds when he dragged us through the Hedge and changed us. We made contracts to live, pieced us back together how he wanted us.
Zhǐ Rén's got a journal he carries around. It ain't just for show, that's him. My rifle is me. You're only smelling our projections. You touch that book, you're touching him. You write in that book, you're cutting ink into him that he can't forget.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-02-23 05:46 pm (UTC)Zhǐ Rén's got a journal he carries around. It ain't just for show, that's him. My rifle is me. You're only smelling our projections. You touch that book, you're touching him. You write in that book, you're cutting ink into him that he can't forget.