ISKRA
I always feel alone, inside my mind
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
Iskra clucked to the mule and set the reins snapping against its back, guiding it forward since the log got affixed. "Steeeeady," he tells the beast, paying heed to its flicking ears and cautious steps as it traverses brush and soft snow drifts. "Beats working in Halo this time of year, 'eh?" he calls back over his shoulder to Damien. Nearby, Goose is rolling in the pale powder that settled with last night's storm.
"Hollowed Grounds also needs lots of firewood, so their logging business is always booming, and trading labor for firewood to bring back to Halo for Longnight sure beats freezing our assess off in the Tundra." Although it's still cold here, and Iskra is bundled in a thick, plaid coat that boasts its usual smattering of woodchips at the overturned collar, along with his leather gloves and thicker trousers and boots, it's nothing like the windchill and subzero temperatures of their home. He doesn't mind the cold, but he is not impervious to it.
"Hollowed Grounds also needs lots of firewood, so their logging business is always booming, and trading labor for firewood to bring back to Halo for Longnight sure beats freezing our assess off in the Tundra." Although it's still cold here, and Iskra is bundled in a thick, plaid coat that boasts its usual smattering of woodchips at the overturned collar, along with his leather gloves and thicker trousers and boots, it's nothing like the windchill and subzero temperatures of their home. He doesn't mind the cold, but he is not impervious to it.
I've been trying to find something
that can set my soul free
that can set my soul free
