12-02-2016, 07:11 AM
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Sunday rather liked Woolf. Of course she rather liked everyone with rare exception. Even the surliest of beast had some redeeming quality she could focus in on and extract. Without empathy things were harder but her natural charms worked well enough. She was quick with her smile, easy with her words and - overall - kind enough.
"Home is relative these days," she told him. She thinks of the Amazons and the thick jungle air that was equal parts refreshing and suffocating. She thinks of the way the sun felt through the trees, the electricity in the air...and now? Now she loves her home and her sisters but it's missing something. The spark that made the Amazons who they were was gone. She wondered - idly - if they'd ever find it again. She wasn't sure if she was the one to help or hinder.
So she rolls her shoulders and looks to the horizon, thinking. "I am not opposed to change but I've found the transition difficult, I suppose. A loss of self, maybe?" She asks him as much as herself, deciding. Then she laughs at herself. "I've become serious in my old age."
"Home is relative these days," she told him. She thinks of the Amazons and the thick jungle air that was equal parts refreshing and suffocating. She thinks of the way the sun felt through the trees, the electricity in the air...and now? Now she loves her home and her sisters but it's missing something. The spark that made the Amazons who they were was gone. She wondered - idly - if they'd ever find it again. She wasn't sure if she was the one to help or hinder.
So she rolls her shoulders and looks to the horizon, thinking. "I am not opposed to change but I've found the transition difficult, I suppose. A loss of self, maybe?" She asks him as much as herself, deciding. Then she laughs at herself. "I've become serious in my old age."
SUNDAY
never put your faith in a prince. when you require a miracle, trust in a witch