Disclaimer: I'm so tired of writing these. I still don't own it. I'll tell you if I do.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed thus far - please keep telling me what you think. Yes, this story is on hold & I'm only posting stuff I wrote a month ago, but I still need feedback in case I decide to continue.
Interlude
(Five years have gone by. Five winters have frozen; five fiery summers heated; sixty-five glowing full moons have risen; hundreds of empty days are gone forever.)
(Moira stands by the side of a lake, dressed in black, one hand raised to shield her eyes from the sunlight. She's been everywhere, everywhere she can think of, but there's no one else quite like Fala. Too proud to beg forgiveness, she lifts a small, flat rock from the ground and skips it once, twice, ten times across the flat surface of the water.)
(I am happy with Jager, Fala tells herself. She tries to pretend that her brief time with Moira has not changed her. She lifts her bloodstained, scarlet lips from the neck of one of her prey, murmurs it again so that only the dying boy in her tight grasp can hear, and he is too far gone to wonder. His hair reminds her of Mordra as she drops his lifeless body and strides over to Jager, wrapping one graceful arm around him.)
(Five more years. More sunsets, more thoughts, more falsely passionate kisses, more whispers in the dark. Moira awakes one evening and throws a rock into the lake, not letting it skip. She picks the petals off a daisy, one by one.
She loves me.
She loves me not.
She loves me.)