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Don't wander too close to the surface!" It was the warning that she grew up to, whispered to her by the scorching voices of the light and flames. Twonjia had been raised by these voices, high and raspy. In fact, she could remember nothing else - nothing but the orange-red flames and their constant instructions. Whenever Twonjia questioned their advice in the same sizzling language, she only received a buzzing static, nothing she could make any meaning of - if they had any meaning at all. Twonjia longed for friends, someone to understand her, instead of these mother-like flames. Ahem, sorry for the not-so-wonderful layout. this layout is coded with help from a generator in sepiroth.org/petcare |
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