Hair grabbed, pacing back and forth. A hundred was it he circled his fort. Shock and confuse as though why she ended up as the like.

Throughout the century, he still love her as their world's very first cry;
not even wavered when he saw her eyes' dry.

She was different... whole lot different. Her eyes screamed of agony yet her demeanor does not say so. She reeks of death still heavenly though. He does not understand.

Paced for the nth time, he stopped. Rustling leaves, creaks, then...