I ran from my enemies for five hundred years, and then one day i stopped. Now a new enemy wants me dead. Sure, i could run from the travelers but there’s still one enemy that i can never escape. Time. So call it pride or vanity but after the life that I’ve lead i refuse to drift off into the sunset. Goodbye.
What would I know about post traumatic stress? I only had my newborn ripped from my arms at birth by my judgmental father and had to run 500 years after my entire family was slaughtered by a psychopath. No, that didn’t have any lingering side effects.
…..♪ I’m searching for something, out of breath I am left hoping someday… I’ll breathe again.