Life is random, chaotic, cruel: not fair. Grace stands by that, which is why she can't believe in anything but a vengeful god.
She stops getting the mare ready, staring at the stirrup she'd just lowered into place. The other's still crossed over the pommel, making it look like a weird sort of side-saddle.
"Shit."
She figures that's more welcome than I'm sorry, even though she is.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-09-10 05:03 pm (UTC)She stops getting the mare ready, staring at the stirrup she'd just lowered into place. The other's still crossed over the pommel, making it look like a weird sort of side-saddle.
"Shit."
She figures that's more welcome than I'm sorry, even though she is.
"None of it makes sense," she grunts at last.
Life. Love. This place.