Sleeping Dragon i've been dreaming of this since the womb

hollow and cold— but how could she imagine that? this volcano was so strikingly alive; how could something so active, so awake, suddenly fall asleep? it didn't make sense, and ying did want to ask more questions, but she didn't have the energy. instead, the focused on her breathing; inhale, exhale.

astaroth came close then. ying looked at him through dreary eyes, alight from his presence. we have no more adventures, she laughed, so, time for new lives again. her voice had softened to something innocent and childlike, barely audible above the lingering winds.

her gaze slowly drifted upward, then away, and she drew in another deep breath. the father, he leav-ed me, and i am— devastated, terrified, enraged,

happy. ying looked at astaroth, remembered the name she'd given him, and applauded herself for having such keen senses. his purpose in their relationship was to act as the light, as he so often did, and ying could not thank him enough for such a favor. you did this and now, i am happy again. how long would it last?