The smell. Overpowering. Rides the wind. Of fur, and claws, and fangs, and dry skin. Quiet, cunning, swift, running. It reaches the edge where darkness meets light. Mouth foaming, eyes crying, temper boiling. It explodes out of the darkness, and into the light. Thanks God for the arms that embrace him, and keep him warm in the light.
Reason for writing:
For Rachel. She keeps me in the light and safety of her
loving arms.
Birth sign: Not entered
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