/casually rolls in pink

I was feeling a little wild

I'll wear this eventually.




Edit: And one more.

someone broke my avatar and changed my title!!! D:

<--- Impostor!

<--- Where did she go??

_{(it was me :-O)}

*Bows* I am called Rishank. I do not know why you have put me here, but I wish to leave so that I may train. Allow me to take my leave now. *Crashes occur in the background. Sighs* Never mind. I need to leave to find that idiot Dray. Whatever she's doing is causing trouble, as per usual. *Runs towards the noise*

(This is Dray. She actually is a girl...)

The girl in morning colors~
There was once a girl, who would paint the sky at night and early in the morning whenever Apollo didn't notice. She turned the sky pink and gold, her favorite colors that of which her favorite gowns would be dyed and her eyes a pure white. She had no real home, she lived in a tree house she had made on the tallest hill so she could be close to the sky she loved so much. But then again home is where you feel happiest right?

She fell in love long ago with a butterfly, that butterfly would flutter strong yet delicate wings as he flew from one end of the Earth to the other. His wings were a beautiful pinkish red with intricate gold designs on them. She would watch from afar as he set to work spreading these things called "feelings". apparently these feelings he spread made people fall in love. Not as in they would just look at the next person and fall in love but they would be encouraged to meet their other half, that puzzle piece that made them whole.

But he started to die, love started to fall st the seams and people started using, lying to each other for their own means, and he could do nothing about it. He could only watch as people broke hearts, hurt, and betrayed each other as he got weaker and so the girl watched as he slowly died, a pained expression left on his face.

She took the delicate scales off his wings, wings that used to be feathers attached to a man who used to be so strong. She took them and made them into a fine powder and with the last of his magic she created paint, and every day and every night before Apollo would change the sky she would create a beautiful sky the color of his magic that couples would look upon and feel happy, maybe just sitting on a hill together watching the sun set.

And the girl, whose gown was dyed eternally gold and pink would watch with fake happiness. For the man who had given her color was gone.