Im not sad
call me for another reason.
The only piece missing from me is a direct passion, I am filled with awe without a direction. The problem with practicality is our fragility. The chance
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It is clean smelling, like a hint of pledge. It smells like fresh laundry and clean sheets. The smell lacking real character. You notice the absence of smells really. The absence of coffee, old bread, dirty socks, Mary Jane and anger. It's lavender and grey. Not a cold pane grey but a sort of soft grey you could use to glamour yourself and never appear again. Soft like for and warm enough for you to take a nap at 3pm. It sounds like laughter, footstep echoes, machinery and softer movements like dancing from the room above yours. It sounds like slow rain and fast rain, page shuffling page, softly trying to sing outloud for the first time, and, every now and again, silence. --loneliness
The letter arrived early in the morning after the second wave of forced combat had just ended. I forgot to mention that the Wood is the Warrior kingdom for all of Ameruireal. Battles between regions inside Ameruireal are seldom and battles inside Wood even less. When there are, it is my job to keep the defensive or neutral villas in tact. My eldest sister is the Negotiator for Ruir issues (outside of the Wood). Second oldest, and dearest is negotiator for issues inside Wood itself. My brothers fight in their own villas. Four villas for four brothers. The other eight are under the care of the Outstanding warriors from the combat tournaments. They make up the Twelve Villas. While i was finishing Gavin to the ground, i heard the messenger laughing as he made his way to the thrown room. The outer lying regions are entertained when watching our women fight our men. Their women wear gowns heavier than my armor and THEY 'swoon'. Watching me destroy Gavin is nothing new to the other...
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