- NATE -
Why you don't got any questions?
How you know that this is real?
How you know that this is real?
Nate’s been walking for far too long, and it’s only at this point that he thinks he maybe should have left a note. Should have left some indication that he hadn’t simply reached the end of his rope and disappeared.
Well, it was too late now.
The haze of mist pointed a lonely portrait, isolating the banks of the lake. It had to be a lake, right? Too large for a pond, but Nate knew he was miles from the ocean still. Miles from another soul, as far as he was aware. It was peaceful, in the kind of way where it had no choice but to be peaceful, and for a single, blessed moment, Nate could pretend he was the only soul left on this cursed place.
The thought was easy, and ruined quite spectacularly by a bug, flitting too close to his face. He lifts a hand to shop it away, only to be met by another, and another. Wings pulse around him, shades of red, of deep blues, and he finally voices his frustration with a loud ”Fuck off!”, the words doing nothing to deter the pests.
Well, it was too late now.
The haze of mist pointed a lonely portrait, isolating the banks of the lake. It had to be a lake, right? Too large for a pond, but Nate knew he was miles from the ocean still. Miles from another soul, as far as he was aware. It was peaceful, in the kind of way where it had no choice but to be peaceful, and for a single, blessed moment, Nate could pretend he was the only soul left on this cursed place.
The thought was easy, and ruined quite spectacularly by a bug, flitting too close to his face. He lifts a hand to shop it away, only to be met by another, and another. Wings pulse around him, shades of red, of deep blues, and he finally voices his frustration with a loud ”Fuck off!”, the words doing nothing to deter the pests.
I am feeling such oppression
You can't tell me how to feel
You can't tell me how to feel
