Through all of this, I have fought hard to continue my writing.
I would crawl around on all fours and bark like a dog if it meant a chance to fly with the greatest ace in history.
Riding hard into the morning sun, we found ourselves on an ancient, ruined road.
When giants moved, it meant war.
As the light filtered through its pearlescent form, it was split in a manner similar to a prism. I had never encountered anything like this in the two years that I had been here.
Plenty of good reasons not to do it. One of which being that you just don’t want to.
Here I go! Wish me luck! -W R