Lion Head Mesa insolitus

They were two war torn things, their souls bared clean to each other. Perhaps not all the way, but their circumstances had defined them both in ways Nephele could not currently put a word to, but knew all the same.

They call me head guard here. The ones before them named me Belladonna. Even before that…they called me runner. Making a mockery of my escape attempt. I was a child. She looked to her scarred leg, the jeering of the guards still ringing in her ears all this time later.

Perhaps the problem is I’m not sure who I am. Had she ever really known who she was? Perhaps not.