They called me Blueberry.
A twisted path guided them round the ravine which stood between taiga and sea. The wraith bounded on featherlight feet, catching sharp turns and leaping over gaps where stone fell steeply away to nothingness. Never once did she look back to see if the man still shadowed her.
She would never know him as @Makan.
In the quiet of her mind she gave him a name of her own: Cobalt. Something new. A beginning, perhaps. But beginnings only ever followed an end.
Night fell; the owls sang. Somewhere among the jagged stones and bent shrubs, Manea ended as quietly as she'd begun. A fox cried out — and, darting off into the misty night in hot pursuit, the ghost who was once called Blue turned girl once again. And the night was alive, and so full of promise.
A twisted path guided them round the ravine which stood between taiga and sea. The wraith bounded on featherlight feet, catching sharp turns and leaping over gaps where stone fell steeply away to nothingness. Never once did she look back to see if the man still shadowed her.
She would never know him as @Makan.
In the quiet of her mind she gave him a name of her own: Cobalt. Something new. A beginning, perhaps. But beginnings only ever followed an end.
Night fell; the owls sang. Somewhere among the jagged stones and bent shrubs, Manea ended as quietly as she'd begun. A fox cried out — and, darting off into the misty night in hot pursuit, the ghost who was once called Blue turned girl once again. And the night was alive, and so full of promise.
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