Today's OneWord: Chosen
"I am not the chosen one!" she screeched from atop her obsidian throne. "I am not here to save your race or people or planet from your own self-destructive ways!"
But they continued building the funeral pyre, their face red and gold from the paint, yet also pale from the moonlight. She gripped the armrests of the stone chair so hard that she cut her palms. The smell of her blood attracted the demons flying overhead.
But they continued building the funeral pyre, their face red and gold from the paint, yet also pale from the moonlight. She gripped the armrests of the stone chair so hard that she cut her palms. The smell of her blood attracted the demons flying overhead.
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