My Stories
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I never thought I’d hate you. I knew I’d mourn you, grieve, a part of me die inside when you took that one stupid chance that would send you away forever.
For r
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There was something calming about gardening. Getting my hands dirty, pulling out weeds that would kill what I want to survive, to carefully prune to make what is already
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Douvai hated being useless and being a burden. She hated it under her parents, when she became old enough to be aware of it, and hated it even more now that she was back.
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The stories never stay the same. First she grows wings as she leaps from the cliff; the next time, she lands on the back of an eagle that bares her way to the forests whe
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