Blackfeather Woods all my friends are heathens take it slow

bc twenty one pilots is life. @Damien

Guilt. The dark wraith glided through the dark fortress of shadows and whispers, without weight to guide her on her feet. What had she done? What was her home now, torn apart over someone so easily disposed. But what she had done struck the core of her being, had she not pledged loyalty to the very man she had cut down with her words as a weapon? She had. She had, over and over. She had ruined what little they had left.

They had so little left.

But she could not lay to waste now, though her efforts of creating a brighter future seemed to turn to ashes before her. At least, for her anyways. What was there for her but a rank to her name? If she could not be loyal to one being how could she be loyal to another. How could she not betray again, and again. She felt nothing, nothing but guilt. It ate away at her, until she could not bear to think about it.