Abandoned (Jessika Claire and Zeraj)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Jessika Claire, Aug 7, 2013.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. Saphira was pulled from her sweet dreams into reality rather suddenly. She didn't open her eyes, because she felt that something was right there in front of her eyes. She tried to assess the situation. Beneath her were wooden floorboards, splintered and nails poking gently at her skin. The air was cold, unlike her home in California. In fact, wasn't she supposed to be in a bed? But there were no sheets surrounding her body, no pillow beneath her head. She counted slowly to 3 and opened her eyes, but nothing was there. She bolted upright and took in her surroundings. This was not her home. The walls had once been colorful, but the paint was now peeling and the pictures were faded.

    She stood and brushed the dust off of her shirt. "This is not California." she said out loud, hoping that perhaps saying it out loud would pull from this dream. But it was not a dream. She heard a creak from a few yards away and turned, but saw nothing. She did the only thing she knew to do in this situation; she ran. But the outside of this house was just as abandoned as the house. The streets were eerily quiet. She clenched her fists and kept walking, hoping beyond hope that there would be someone out there to help her. It was like the beginning of a cheesy horror movie.

    She could only hope it wouldn't end like one...
  2. Light pulled him out of the pleasant darkness Atticus usually resided in. But something was off. This light seemed off. He opened his eyes to nothing. Emptiness. He looked around him. It was a room like any other. There was a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. These things had no meaning to him. Atticus had never lived in a nice room like this. He stood up. Dust came off in a cloud around him. He realized the entire room was covered in a layer of dust. Why am I here? How long? Atticus felt something dark within himself. A certain uneasiness building up. He needed something to calm himself. He checked his pockets, emptied his jacket. Nothing. "Where is it! I swear I had some." He became frenzied. The sudden need for the dark place within himself was so strong, but he had nothing to reach there. Nothing... like this room. He dared not touch the room. There was something different about it. A certain pull to simply lie on the bed and do nothing. Atticus couldn't do what the world want. He needed to move. Needed to escape. Then there was a sudden noise downstairs. He became alert.

    Atticus walked carefully out of the room. Dust fell from the door as he twisted it open. Was this house abandoned? He walked slowly but carefully. The stairs down looked ominous as if each step would break upon contact. He tested the first one. It was sturdy enough. He continued down, eyes searching for something in the darkness. There was a presence Atticus couldn't quite shake off. It was nothing like being chased down by police or dealers back in the streets. When he finally was down, he carefully pulled apart a large red curtain. Nothing awaited him. It was a street completely emptied of life. "What is this." he felt his throat clench in fear. Then a woman ran out of one of the houses. Atticus felt something was wrong. He immediately bolted out and was running after her. "Wait! Stop! What's happening?" he yelled after her. The feeling of being hunted grew as he ran after her. The houses seemed to surround him in the street. The windows became eyes that pierce into his being. The pain came over him. No... it can't happen now. He fell onto the ground abruptly. The horrible nightmare would begin once more.

    He longed for the black emptiness, but he had nothing.
  3. Everywhere, there was silence. The silence overwhelmed her. She hated being alone; too many things could happen while she was alone. She began to speak softly to herself to fill the void. She started a familiar story about a boy and a girl; one that she grew up listening to. "Once upon a time, there was a happy couple. They loved each other ver-" she stopped suddenly at the sound of another voice. Someone else!? Oh, thank goodness! Maybe he knows what's going on! But her hopes were crushed when he voiced the same question she'd been asking herself since she'd woken up. She stood a good few yards in front of him, fingers nervously pulling at the edges of her grey skirt.

    "Y-You don't know either?"

    So they were both here for unknown reasons. She tried to calm her furiously beating heart and willed her mind to hush. But just as she calmed down, the man fell to the ground. She immediately began to panic, thoughts whirling through her mind faster than she could fully process them. Was he sick? Would he be okay? Was it contagious? ...Would he die? She did the only thing she knew to do in the situation. She went over to his side and checked his temperature and pulse. Her mother had been a nurse, so she'd had a little bit of training. But in this abandoned town, there was no one to help them. Only themselves, and so she could do nothing until she knew what was wrong. "Excuse me, c-can you hear me? What's wrong?"
  4. ((I keep forgetting to watch threads. Good thing I double checked))

    There was a voice through the pain. It soft and worried. He held onto it and fought through the pain. Once again he opened his eyes to see the same woman. "I'm fine..." He felt her warmth permeate through her hands. He back off in surprise and looked at her expression. "Sorry. I sometimes black out." Atticus pushed his sleeves further to cover his arms. The oppressive feeling was faint now. Perhaps she was calming him down. He looked down at the floor and asked softly, "Do you know where we are? I... was in New York before... here." Atticus stood up shakily and looked at her once more. Who was she? Did she bring me here? I dont' see anyone else. My head hurts. Wheres my pills. I don't want to hurt. He grimaced from the lingering pain.

    He looked around to see the houses. They were no longer glaring at him. Their walls no longer blocked him. Atticus felt relief welling within, dispelling the pain. The gray sky looked so ominous. He pushed his unkempt black hair aside. "I don't know whats happening. Where is everyone?" he asked himself.
  5. Saphira felt relief wash through her, but it didn't last long. He was alright now, and he seemed to already know how to deal with whatever was wrong. "I don't know." she replied, realizing with a jolt of fear that they were the only ones here. "I was in California." she said quietly, eyeing the way his body shook slightly and his facial expressions. Was he still in pain? She desperately wished she could help him. She was the kind of girl who hated to see anyone in pain, but alas, she could do nothing. She looked around them when she heard the wind howl, but there was no one in the street but them, which reminded her. The streets were probably not a safe place to be, even if the place was abandoned. "We should probably get out of the street." she said, pointing a finger at a plain white house near them. It looked decent, clean, and...lived in.

    She led him in, refusing to take 'no' for an answer, because she had a bad feeling about being outside. It just didn't feel safe. The feeling of being watched followed her inside of the building, even though it looked nice enough. The couches were leather and the walls looked freshly painted. The floors and shelves didn't even have a speck of dust on them. That was odd...Saphira's emerald orbs searched the room for any other signs of life, but found none. No personal items, no photos, nothing. "Hello? Is anyone there?" she waited for a response, but when none came, she took a seat hesitantly on the couch. "I think we can stay here for a bit...Maybe we can find out how we got here or where this place is."
  6. Atticus still felt out of it. By the time he recovered, she had led him into one of the nearby houses. The house was eerie to him. There was something off about it like everything else he encountered since he woke. He sat on the couch beside the women. His hazel eyes examined his surroundings one more. He couldn't tell what was wrong. It was as if he knew this place. Knew every inch of it. And someone replaced everything with a copy that had an imperceptible difference. He shook at the thought. "I don't like this place," he muttered softly. Atticus turned towards the woman, "I'm sorry for chasing after you. I just felt... alone and needed to see or even hear anyone. My name is Atticus." He tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it while extending his hand for a handshake.

    How long have I been sober enough to have a proper conversation with anyone? He felt the need prick him all over. The tiny tendrils slowly consuming his mind with hunger. I don't know if I can control myself. The pain. That thing I don't want. He looked at her carefully. Green eyes like a peaceful forest. Just staring made his hunger lessen, his pain ignored. If she is with me I think I can control it. This world seems so lonely now. He recalled that room he was in. It was dusty, forgotten, and seething with darkness. Atticus thought he felt a force in there with him. It was so close to him. He thought it whispered things to him. Things he didn't want to hear. Things he didn't want to know. Damnit I need to stop. That did not happen. I only heard a sound from below. A sound? Who made that sound. Was there someone else? It can't be her because she came from the other house. His face paled with that thought.
  7. Saphira accepted his handshake, though she held on a little longer than she normally would. She was frightened, and knowing someone else was there brought a little comfort to her. "Nice to meet you, Atticus. I'm Saphira." It was an odd place to meet someone, but it couldn't be helped. She looked at him, but he seemed to be trapped in his own thoughts. She took this time to get up and look around the room. The room itself was very plain, she noted. The furniture and decorations were kept to a minimum, but that wasn't the thing that bothered her. It was just too quiet. Even the way she tapped her fingers along the wall couldn't break the silence. She peeked down the hallway and all of the doors to the rooms branching off were shut. She felt something pulling her towards the door at the end of the hallway. It was just a plain, white door identical to the others, but she wanted to open it.

    She laughed nervously to herself to break the silence and turned her back. No. That was how all horror movies went. Someone would be an idiot and wander off on their own, going through a door to the unknown and they would die. She wouldn't be a victim, even if this wasn't a horror movie. It was starting to feel more and more like one though... "I know this is unreasonable," she began, hoping he would come back to reality. "But do you mind checking the rest of the rooms with me? I just have this uneasy feeling and I would feel better if we knew for sure that the house is empty." she looked at him hoping he wouldn't think she was a weirdo, after all, they'd just met. It just felt like something that had to be done...

    Because she swore she'd seen the doorknob on the door move.
  8. "Yeah... I get what you're saying. I've been having the sensation of being watched since I woke. It would be nice to know if the house is empty." Atticus stood up and didn't notice as he pulled her along by the hand. It was an unconscious movement. He felt if he let go of her something would snatch her away and he would be alone to face the coming dark. He moved towards a nearby hallway. Each door was closed and he felt the uneasy feeling of watchful presences behind every one of them. He gripped tighter, finally realizing he was still holding her hand. Atticus let go with alarm. "I'm sorry I didn't notice." The disconnect between them felt jarring. As if now the presences filled in the space between them, making him feel as if now she was distances away. "Lets check the door in the back first," he quickly stammered as he quickened towards the back door.

    It had a sterile white color which reminded him of hospitals. He dismissed those memories and continued forth his hands slowly turning the knob. It turned smoothly without much sound. When he tried to pushed the door open, it didn't budge. "The door seemed to be stuck." He now pushed with more force, feeling the door against his shoulder. With one last shove he used all his strength, but this time door door had no resistance. It was if the door was opened the moment he tried to push. Atticus immediately flew into the darkness and fell down stairs he couldn't see. Each step pounded against him as he rolled to the bottom. When he finally stopped onto concrete, his body ached all over with bruises. He looked up to see two figures above in the light. One of them had to be Saphira, but who was the other? He blinked rapidly and found that only one figure was up there. "I'm fine," he called out with pain.
  9. When he let go of her hand, Saphira felt something trying to pull her from behind. It felt like something had grabbed her shoulder; something that had the consistency of water. She immediately grabbed his hand again before looking over her shoulder. "No...It's fine." She watched him try to open the door, on the last shove, she saw it open slightly before he pushed his shoulder on it. She was about to yell a warning, but she was too late. He had toppled down the stairs. She looked down into the darkness. She could just barely make out his figure on the ground, but...what was that next to it? Feeling slightly nervous, her hand searched the wall for a light switch. She found one and flipped it on, but the light was dim and barely did any good. The figure beside him was gone. "Probably just my imagination..." she murmured before making her way down the stairs as well.

    "Are you sure you're okay? That looked like a nasty fall." she held out a hand to help him up. The tiny bit of light didn't help too much. She could barely tell one shadow from the next. It smelled a little like rotting meat, which worried her a little. There were spiderwebs everywhere and she even saw something run in front of her. It was just her imagination. Just her imagination. Saphira thought that if she kept repeating this, it would become true. But it just served to make her more nervous. Her fingers traveled along the wall. Perhaps there was another light switch down here. She then remembered why they had come down in the first place. "Hello? Is anyone here?"
  10. Her voice entered the darkness and seemed like it was swallowed as if there was no walls to resound off. Atticus got back up, his body lit with the fires of multiple bruises. He touched his side with dismay. It hurt but nothing was broken. "Sorry to scare you like that. You don't have to worry. Nothings broken and I'm used to taking a beating like that." He stretched a bit, pain spiking but then lessening. "I think we got into the basement." The only light was above where the stairs were. The rest of the room was filled with darkness. He dared not venture further without Saphira. Once she came down, he grasped her hands once more. "I think its better if we stick together. It doesn't feel right down here."

    They both continued off feeling the nearby walls where the light barely illuminated. The moment he touched the shadows of the room he jerked his hand back. It felt strangely alive, as if shifting around. He shook off the feeling and continued forward. There was no light switch so far and they went further and further away from the light. His heart beat increased a bit and his grip tightened. Suddenly the light flickered behind and he saw something around them. Gray and black figures appeared and disappeared as the lights faded in and out. There was a long moment were it was off. He yanked Saphira closer closing her body to his. The darkness crept around them, seeking a weakness in their fearful embrace. When the light suddenly turned on and stopped flickering. He was now breathing hard. His chest pounding against hers. "What was that? Did you..." Atticus didn't know if he was going mad. Was it the side effects? Is he now feeling the drug's effects now. The fear engulfed him for a while until he realized Saphira was just as scared. He held a little tighter and that seemed to be enough to dissipate most of his fear. She was still here. He was not alone.
    #10 Zeraj, Aug 13, 2013
    Last edited: Aug 15, 2013
  11. For the first time since she woke up, fear was not what filled her body. As her body was pulled flush against his, she found herself far more nervous for the wrong reasons. Saphira could feel his erratic heartbeat that seemed to be in sync with hers. She noticed that even though she didn't feel frightened, her body was trembling and her knees were weak. She was now grateful that he was helping hold her up, because she would have collapsed. She felt a chill reach through her shoulder and she turned her head to look behind her, still safely in his arms. She flinched and her body instinctively moved towards his. Something had been there... She didn't get a good look at it, but it was most definitely a face a little paler than it should have been. "Atticus, did you see that...?" she asked, praying that he would say no, that it was just her over-active imagination. But she knew she had seen it, even if she wasn't quite sure what it was.

    She hesitantly moved out of his embrace, but kept her hand on his. She was holding it a little tighter than normal, but she didn't want him to pull away. Cold dread filled her body at the though of being alone in the basement. The lights were on now. And if something had been down here before, it was gone. There was the occasional spider web, but that was normal, even if the spider had a web that looked like it could easily trap a large bird. "I think it's clear down here..." she murmured, moving closer to his body. "Maybe we should go and check the other rooms..."
  12. "I agree..." It had been enough to see that the basement had no one else, but Atticus had the feeling the room was always full. He held her hand and lead her up the stairs one step at a time. It was slow but he made no effort to be quick. The darkness behind them seemed to beckon them, waiting for them to trip or make one wrong move and completely consume them. Finally they were out of the basement and he closed the door. "I forgot to turn off the light..." As his hand touched the door knob once more, the light beneath the door was instantly off, snatched away like a rabbit. "I guess... the fuse went out down there." His hand was still tightly grasping hers. "I really don't know whats going on..." Atticus admitted, "all this stuff is starting to scare the living hell out of me." He breathed slowly until he calmed.

    They continued to search the other rooms in the hallway. Luckily they had windows and it was well lit, but Atticus couldnt shrug the feeling he was being watched from the dark places in the rooms. The closet, under the bed, in the crack between furniture. "Thats all the rooms on the first floor." Atticus didn't feel like checking the second story. His nerves was already on edge and the entire situation in the basement still scared him. His bruises was a constant reminder of it. "All thats left is on the second floor." He looked directly at Saphira, letting go of her hand. "Do you want to check it out as well?" The windows were beginning to let in less and less light. The room around them seem to be much darker than before. Atticus didn't want to face night in this strange world. Where are we really in? A nightmare?
  13. Saphira agreed with him, glad that he was just as frightened as she was. There hadn't been any incidents with the other rooms, but she had a feeling they weren't just empty rooms. There was always something that caught her eye, but once she turned to look again, it was gone. She looked up at him, wondering if this really was the first time she'd met him. She had a condition, although she couldn't remember what it was called for the life of her, that made her randomly lose her memory. It didn't completely erase it, only parts of it. It was extremely frustrating. Sometimes she would meet someone and moments later, forget them again. Her mother said it was usually triggered by something physically hitting her or anything that made her heart stop momentarily. Something like a sudden scare.

    So, while her heart was beating erratically, she hoped that nothing would truly scare her and trigger it. She shook her head to snap her back to reality. This wasn't the time to be worrying about that. He was looking at her, as if expecting an answer. Shoot. What had he asked her? Oh right. The second floor... She nodded her head. It was better to be safe than sorry. And since it was beginning to get darker, they needed to move fast. If the lights in the basement had been that bad, she was doubtful that the lights upstairs worked any better. And being caught up there in the dark somehow didn't appeal to her.
  14. "Okay..." he took hold of her hand once more. The feeling now more natural than before. They ascended the stairs. The wood seemed to strain with each step, wanting to produce a sound, but couldn't as if restrained. The second story wasn't that much smaller than the first floor. There seemed to be a master bedroom, a bathroom, and two other rooms. Atticus decided they would search the master bedroom first. The hallway seemed to be bare, hinting at once filled family portraits. The master bedroom was large with a opened walk in closet and a personal bathroom. The overall aesthetic was modern, yet aged. He entered the bathroom first, not daring the closet until he had to.

    It was utterly white without a speck of color. The room seemed to be painted by a mad man who had only one understanding of purity. This raised plenty of alarms in Atticus's mind. "I don't like this bathroom." He pulled away the shower curtain to see the first sign of color. It was vibrant and made Atticus want to vomit. He turned away. "Is that... blood?" But when he saw it once more, only whiteness remained. "What the... The bathrooms clear." Atticus rushed out. I swear I saw blood. I am going insane. The medication... the prescriptions. Is this all a horrible nightmare." His grip on Saphira was nearly hard enough to hurt. The closet was closed. "Did you close the closet before we entered the bathroom?
  15. At the mention of blood, Saphira's head whipped around. She peered into the shower, but there was no blood. When she turned back to look in the mirror, she nearly screamed. She clapped her free hand over her mouth, eyes wide and peering at the figure that appeared just behind her. There was someone else. Someone was right behind her. He was covered in blood! She turned around, her free hand in a fist, but there was nothing there. A shiver ran through her body. That couldn't have been her imagination. The details were much too clear for it to be just a hallucination. She tried to say something, but found that it was impossible. Her voice just wouldn't work and her mouth just wouldn't open. She was thankful when he pulled her from the bathroom, but she was faced with a new terror. The closet.

    "No." she said, voice barely above a whisper. "It was definitely open." She reached a shaking hand towards it and opened it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. Empty. She breathed a sigh of relief. "I guess we should check the other rooms now." she said, gently pulling him out of the master bedroom. She wanted to leave this room as soon as she could. It was pointless though. There wasn't one room safer than the other. This entire house just felt wrong. No, the entire city felt wrong. There was nowhere they could go to be safe... When she went back into the hallway, she found that the doors of the other rooms were already open, even though she knew they had been closed before. "There's something here." her voice shook along with her body and she gripped his hand tighter.
  16. Saphira's words tugged on a strange part of his mind. Atticus knew she told the truth. There had always been something here. But her words made it tangible. Perhaps even physical. Atticus carried on and moved to the nearest room. It was like the rest, plain and discomforting. With a cursory scan, he noted nothing out of the ordinary and left. He felt something watch him as he moved to the bathroom. This one wasn't blindingly white as the master one had been. It's normalcy had caught him off guard as he searched for something strange or odd. There was nothing. It was completely normal, with bath goods and a clean bathtub and shower. Even the faucet showed no signs of rust or water damage. This inconsistency made him shudder. Was he making all this up. Atticus did not want to think about all the things he had seen, heard, or felt. He didn't want to know if he fabricated the entire thing.

    Saphira hand was comforting as he reached for the last room across from the master bedroom. Inside was similar to the other room except for one object. There was a single wooden box on top of the bed. It was worn and had small hinges. There was some kind of pattern inscribed on top. The box called to him, wanting him to open it. Jack looked Saphira in the eyes. "Should we open it?" Atticus felt if they opened the box, something would change. Something would be unleashed. But also he felt as if they had to open it. To not open the box would lead to paths to frightening to imagine. A world of unknowing, filled with horrors and have nothing to stop it. His heart beat elevated and he felt his hands warm with hers.
  17. No. Saphira stared at the box. Opening the box was a bad idea; just as bad as not opening it. In this situation, Saphira couldn't tell which was the lesser of two evils. If they didn't open it, they wouldn't have to see the horrors that waited for them in the box. Instead, they would just wonder and wait. Of course, there was always the chance that there were no horrors in the box, but her instinct was telling her otherwise. She knew there was something inside of it, something that would make everything leading up until now suddenly make sense. The little bit of safety they felt would fall apart. So no. She did not want to open it. No. The box definitely should stay closed.

    "Yes." she breathed before she could stop herself. She squeezed his hand tighter. Well, there was no going back now. She reached out her free hand and placed it on the top of the box. Perhaps she was just being paranoid. Perhaps the fear was getting to her. But she swore she could feel it move just from her touch. She lifted the lid and looked inside, eyes widening in horror. She withdrew her hand and covered her mouth with it, holding back a scream. Or, she would be holding back a scream if her voice even worked. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. The only thing she could do was stare at the item inside of the box. She let go of his hand. Her legs gave out and she felt her stomach flip, body trembling violently. Inside of the box was a skull. "I-Is...Is this some sort of joke...?" she stuttered, looking up at him. It had to be. Any second now, he was going to laugh and say it was all a joke... Any second now...
  18. There was no laugh. There was nothing comedic about this scene. Atticus looked at the skull within the box. The feeling was strange. It was as if he was not entirely himself. He noted on the color of the skull. It was not fully white like the chemically bathed skulls seen in labs. There was still dirt and particulates, making the skull seem like it was recently unearthed. The two black holes that had once been eyes seemed to watch them. Atticus felt unnerved and entirely broken. The skull had breached something deep within his mind. He looked at Saphira and saw the growing fear in her face. The box was closed with soft thud. Atticus did not want to look it at or have it look at them. "Lets leave this room." There was nothing else to say. There were no words to describe the moment of the box.

    Atticus lead Saphira out and the door closed without them touching it. He didn't seem to notice as the world around them was changed. The house was no longer what it was before. It was decayed and rotten. The walls were peeling. Each of the room they've visited was closed and barred with boards. Atticus looked behind and it was the same. The connection to Saphira was the only thing keeping him sane. The madness of this world would rip his mind if she wasn't there with him. He ran down the stairs and heard each crack, sounding like bones breaking. Saphira kept up and he felt something following them. "RUN!" Atticus yelled as he saw the front door coming closer.
  19. Saphira allowed Atticus to pull her from the room. She didn't notice anything that was going on really. Her fingers grasped at the fabric covering her chest, her nails trying to dig into her chest. Her heart was beating so quickly and her legs were stumbling over each other, but she held onto his hand tightly and tried to keep running. She saw the front door and opened it, pulling him through with her. It wasn't any better on the outside. The other houses were no longer the same. Some houses weren't even there. They were wrecked and only the foundation remained. The other houses had their windows smashed or boarded and the walls were crumbling inwards. It still looked empty, but she had the feeling that they weren't alone anymore.

    She looked back at the house they'd come from. It was gone. Only the foundation remained. She walked over to it and looked at the wreckage. Her heart finally gave out and she collapsed to the ground. She wouldn't be out for very long; a few minutes at most. When her eyes finally opened again, her memory would have changed. She did recognize him a little, but that was it. The past events didn't stick with her. So it was definitely quite a shock to her when she sat up and looked at the ruined house in front of her. "What...What's going on?" she asked him, standing and looking frantically around her. "Atticus, what just happened?"
  20. "I don't know! The world has gone to hell!" Atticus couldn't help but scream out in frustration. He wanted to enter the black. That cold unfeeling state he always fell into when he felt any prickling of stress or anxiety. Just one single pill and he would fall into that dreamless state. How he pained to know that he had none. He wondered if this world was all his imaginings in a drug hazed state. Atticus shook at the thought. Can a person truly create such a terrible place in his mind? The idea was too frightening to hold and he let it go. He looked at Saphira. She was in so much fear. Maybe even more than him. He straightened and held her wordlessly. There was a need for comfort. Surrounded by ruin and decay, the small warmth given by her was the only thing he could focus on. The moment was ephemeral and would have lasted a bit longer, but Atticus parted, his sanity somewhat restored.

    "We have to keep moving on. Maybe we'll find someone or something to help us. Lets head deeper into city." He had no notion that this was a wise plan. There was no point in standing in the middle of the street. Each window of the house was a portal to darkness. Things writhing behind every frame, waiting for them. Atticus wanted to move. He wanted to run, but he felt the weariness of the day drag upon him. He lead Saphira along. The road was ragged with depressions and holes. The day was darkening and the feeling of being watched grew with each new shadow. Was there ever a time where he felt hope and happiness? Atticus felt Saphira's grip tighten in reflex to his own unease. Certainly he could be happy with her. It was a fleeting thought. Perhaps driven in by fear and desperation. But Saphira was a beacon in the darkness and he clung to her with a iron will. "We'll need to find somewhere safe to stay during the night. Are you tired, Saphira?" tiredness dripped from his voice like a well wrung rag.
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.