Survivor. Resolute. Strong. Courageous.
Seneca used so many
words to explain how Callista survived her father. But Callista knew
in her heart that the truth was that she was afraid. Afraid to die.
To be sent back to that world with scorched ground and eerie lights
in the darkness.
Alone. Where her paws, her form, was nothing
but a shimmer. A ghost to be blown away with the wind.
She had
been twice, before those rending yanks on her stomach and chest
pulled her soul back to her mortal Tyrian form.
“You'll not
go to the Mists yet!”
She agreed.
No comments:
Post a Comment