[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid transparent; width: 450px; font-family: bookman oldstyle; margin-top: -5px;][size=30pt][shadow=black,left][color=#a0d6b4]↳ DREAMKIT
[/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px solid transparent; width: 300px; opacity: 0.80; color: white; text-align: justify; cursor: url(http://cur.cursors-4u.net/cursors/cur-9/cur828.cur), auto; font-size: 10px; font-family: bookman oldstyle;]
Ever since her father had left Dreamkit found herself growing more and more bitter with every second. How could he just walk out like that? The child would huff angrily as she kicked a stone into the river with her paws, glaring at the tumbling current where her father had taught her to swim. Whatever, The smoke child would think, moving to kick more rocks into the moving river. i'll show him, I don't need anyone.
She wanted to hate Pinball for leaving, for walking out on this obligation as a parent. But for some reason the fae couldn't make herself, and that caused her to just grow even more bitter. Tossing the stones was becoming therapeutic as she continued doing it, finding herself soothed by the ploosh noise that was made. Turning her seafoam hues to the banks the child would begin searching for more stones to toss, trying all the while to swallow the anger that was rising in her.
[/fancypost]
[align=center][color=transparent]