We live in fear. We are shaped by the world around us, blinded by only what we choose to see through our own narrow lens of the world.
Have you ever wished you were not yourself, but someone else?
Have you ever loved someone while hating them at the exact same time?
Matia crawled across the frozen ground, dragging her broken body through the snow as blood smeared behind her in a grotesque crimson trail. Every inch of her small frame ached violently, bruises blooming beneath pale skin while one of her bent wings twitched weakly against her back. Her face pressed briefly against the ice-covered floor, and despite the agony running through every shattered nerve in her body, all she could feel was the familiar cold embracing her skin.
She was used to pain.
She had lived with pain for as long as memory allowed.
Even then... she was afraid.
Not because she feared death.
No.
