Starting snippetDespite it all, he still existed.
"Lived" was a word that had not applied to him these many years. The crystal cool mountain air, fresh with the scent of alpine flowers, entered and exhaled from his lungs but could no longer bring him ease. His heart still beat, er through his veins naught but time begotten ash drifted.
Pickpocket he'd once thought himself. Unfairly called by others cutpurse, though his skilled fingers could slip knot much faster than any edge. In those days he'd no need of a blade, now cruely curved and poison coated daggers rarely slept in their scabbards.
There had been a time when teasing conquests had called him rake, how hollow that jibe now seemed. His sickening frame lank and festered yet un-naturally, he still continued. The gaping tear through his left ribs still ached from the first time he'd died. Unfairly ripped from endless slumber that small angular tear was now the least of his external injuries. At first reawakening his mind had succumed to the madness