[fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 450px; padding: 0px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify]( can you tell i've been playing ac again? anyway, this thread is set in 1752 and do as you wish because i have no idea what i was even going for here, just that i started writing while playing rouge and this happened )
A heart. That is what the small red fruit seemed to them, held lightly between the palms of their hands, a bright drop of crimson. Working their nails into the flesh curls of apple peel rose up as their hand moved, encircling the apple until a thin white line cut through the middle of it. Sucking on their fingers to remove the sticky juice of the fruit they took bites from the piece they had taken from the apple, the rest of it forgotten, sitting atop their leg. The fruit was bitter, over ripe as the apple orchard had sat with no one to care for it, many gone i the face of the war that came to ravage this land.
Isena had taken advantage of this and moved freely through the abandoned towns that dotted the landscape, pleased that they no longer had to live in the streets any more, scrounging for food and forced to run every time a guard approached or run the risk of being dragged off. It was peaceful out here with nothing but the roads and them, the threat of death or imprisonment no longer hanging over their head, but they found their mind drifting back. Though it had been a hard, grueling life it had at least not be one filled with loneliness, in the very least there had been familiar faces before.
With a sigh Isena lifted themself up, the apple left to fall into the twisted roots of the tree they had been sitting against, wiping their hands on their pants. There was little they could do but continue on, to try and find somewhere safe to hole up for a little while, though such seemed unimportant now, merely something to occupy them until they could figure out what to do in the long run.[/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 450px; padding: 0px; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px; text-align: center]we might be only animals -
[abbr=isena | undersized black smoke kitten, stuck permanetly | no current noticable scarring | son of no one | warrior of windclan | suffers from bouts of depression, adhd, migranes, and on occassion will faint without warning]information[/abbr] - battle - [abbr=time control, can not be controlled | formerly shape shifting and elemental control, both unable to be used as all other powers are inaccessible]abilities[/abbr] - biography - plot thread