Aloulore

Finally. It had taken a month - by far too long for her liking - but they had finally reached their destination - the druid colony of Deadman’s Cove; or what remained of it rather: a dead tree, scorched land, ashes, stubborn fools and bleeding hearts. What a waste. All because of one folk. Cassandra scoffs. But, despite the scorn she wears, she respects those that stayed - their willingness to fight, despite how stacked the odds were against them. The predators were congregating - the cleverest among them leading the charge - poised to at any moment. Cass had seen them - eyes lurking in the shadows, waiting. The large folk grins - showing off dangerous fangs, ones more befitting a hunter than prey - as she stares down the beasts that are undoubtedly there - waiting, watching, planning. The large folk is ready, eager. But there is something else she must do first - a need to reassure herself that he still walks among the living, because she never pegged him for a fighter. Not

It was not a good day. That was more or less it. How most days were for as long as she could really remember. Not good. Not always bad per say. But never really good in the usual sense. A good day usually just meant she had some modicum of energy. Just enough to maybe start something, but never really see it through, because usually she would find herself burned out less than halfway through. That’s why much of her room found itself in disarray - with tasks half started and then left to gather dust. It was a perfect reflection of how she felt - like a mess. A lazy mess that fought herself to rise and do anything at all. Today was one of those days. The kind of day where getting out of bed felt like moving mountains and everything seemed terribly away. But Amelia got up. It felt like a losing battle, but she got up and changed and she came down for breakfast. She gave her grandparents a practiced smile - strained and fake as can be - and there was the usual morning routine and idle