His obsession began as a collector’s fancy. He watched them from his tower as they gathered herbs in the valley. He had their scent bottled — rosehip and thunder — and drank it before bed. But obsession, like an eagle’s talon, tightens slowly until the bone cracks.
The Eagle never slept.
When the Eagle entered at midnight, expecting to choose between mercy and storm, he found neither rose in their rooms. Only a single stem left on his pillow, wrapped in a page torn from his own journal. twin roses a mad eagle 39-s obsession pdf
“You cut me,” he said, touching a scratch on his cheek. His obsession began as a collector’s fancy
“They are one soul,” the Eagle whispered to his falconer. “To possess both is to own the sky.” But obsession, like an eagle’s talon, tightens slowly
An excerpt from an unfinished manuscript, circa 1887
So he took Lyra.