CHULANE
why do things happen with no reason or rhyme?
why does it feel like we're running out of time?
why does it feel like we're running out of time?
Chulane wasn't sure why he was wandering the streets of Snowcloak so late at night, but here he was. The odd, never-setting-sun twilight had thrown his sleeping patterns - it was common for him to work 20 hours straight, making deliveries, rounding up ningos, sometimes just taking to the skies for hours on end - he wondered if this was what being an Ascended was like, though he did not have endless energy reserves like they seemed to.
No, he was fuelled by dreams that shook him awake, by grief that rattled and left him awake more often than it let him sleep. Adrenalin and a need to keep his body and mind busy pushed him to keep moving, to keep being useful, to keep being generous, and helpful, to find some kind of fulfilment in life - even if it all felt like it was for naught. So he wandered, a bag of plucked ningoes over his shoulder, ready to make an early-morning (or late-night, depending on how you looked at it) delivery to a family in need.
No, he was fuelled by dreams that shook him awake, by grief that rattled and left him awake more often than it let him sleep. Adrenalin and a need to keep his body and mind busy pushed him to keep moving, to keep being useful, to keep being generous, and helpful, to find some kind of fulfilment in life - even if it all felt like it was for naught. So he wandered, a bag of plucked ningoes over his shoulder, ready to make an early-morning (or late-night, depending on how you looked at it) delivery to a family in need.
how do we keep going, through the dark?
why are we here at all, lost in the dark?
why are we here at all, lost in the dark?
