Burn Card

there are no markings on her country roads no signs that show the way back home This is what you see. A girl the colour of autumn, well, but that wasn't quite right, and if we're going to start this again, we might as well do it properly. Otem couldn't be the colour of autumn, for autumn holds the warm and whispering winds. It conjures sentiments of sun dappled lazy afternoons. Autumn is warm and inviting and promises an eternity of laughter and magic. In comparison to that list of adjectives Otem really had no meaningful similarities. Otem was various shades of brown and a few splotches of what (if we're being generous) might even be called gold. She is somewhere between girl and woman, adorned with horns and wings and a companion she calls Pandora. And she is simply standing and staring. But, if you could really see, you would see self-pity and self-importance mixing in equal parts in her bi-coloured eyes. Whispers of wanting and longing and loss cover her, making her elegant and long frame appear slumped and hollow. Otem holds her wings around her shoulders and if asked why, she might poetically try to say something about how there was no one else to do it for her.  But that wasn't really what she felt, it just seemed like the type of thing she ought to say. The truth was, she just felt empty.  Gazing at the place where the Helovian's had been birthed into this place, Otem tried to silently demand answers from the world around her. She had once trusted the Rift, but then youth and pride had quieted the voice of the Rift that had once guided her.  "I'm tired." She said to the owl on her withers as she drew a long breath.

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