Why is a raven like a writing desk?
06-16-2016, 04:45 AM
Sometimes it was depressing. Sometimes she lost the will to carry on. Sometimes it was infuriating. Sometimes she didn't feel anything at all; indifferent, numb. Though if there was one thing she had learnt from the loss of her friend, it was that she had to carry on. Sure, she had lost her entire immediate family and old home, but she couldn't be rundown just yet. There had to be that ounce of energy still left inside of her, that motivation to fuel her forward. Either way, she didn't like to think about it. He could be dead for all she knew. That was why she found herself lumbering across the plains, searching through the mist of cluttered scents for the tantalising smell of prey. Hunting always took her mind off things; it was her old friend, one that would never leave her. The refined ability would stay with her forever, standing and serving by her side. Wolves come and go, though her skills wouldn't. |
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