natural
26: heart in ice
Frost was a fist clenched and his heart was its grasp, slowly crushed. Lucky it was built of rubber and that was a surprise because everyone including him thought it was made of glass: the kind of fine glass that could build a mosaic but also shattered far too easily. But rubber didn't shatter. Rubber burned and smelt like torn up tyres that slowly leaked out air and fire or friction or cold ice picks could tear them and make them scream. And fire pokers wouldn't pick them out but rather leave their own holes to bleed from.