Landscaping

[archiveofarethusa]

Ragnar had painted a small landscape to have something to show he'd tried not killing. He'd heard things. Art was the opposite of destruction, yet its equal. Funny thing, he had yet to bleed out a tube of paint that screamed half as well as a person. The painting was a snowfield from his childhood. It had been calm. The only calm, some years.

He came back to his hovel the night after he'd Risen to find that the place had been flooded in the storm. The pure white landscape had turned muddy, ominous. Ruined.

Ragnar framed it above the mantle.