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[youtube]https://youtu.be/qIm0fsMo0Rg?list=PLpLKa19DKUofKG-uk6DdGn38k4SUL27Y4[/youtube]
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[color=Silver]	Counting the nights had become impossible. The scribbles on her walls were incomprehensible. Individual tallies began to merge into one another. Soon, the numbers were a single constant scratch against the wall. Irony had hit her like a train. Hiding in the shadows to avoid [i]THE[/i] Shadows. A crawling bottom feeder, a scrounger at the end of time. Faced with the endless void of uncertainty, she'd conjured plan after plan. Each colour coded nightmare had their own names. Yearn wasn't strong enough to describe her desire. There was an act that needed to be launched, the next part of the greater story she held so dearly onto. Her scribbles fell upon blind eyes and her begs were spoken to deaf ears. No scribe could translate her incoherence. Voices in her head did the talking for her. When there was no one to talk to, the only person she could converse with was herself. In desperate determination, she began to titter to herself as she realised the inaudible screaming coming from inside her run down hideaway. A tale on insanity had barely left her alone. Final hour. Final year. Final week. Final day? Something taunted her from around the corner that wasn't really there. Her skittish fiddling jingled throughout the underpass. Agony played with her.[/color]

[color=FF5400][b]"I can hear you, you little fucker..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]A raspy, tired tone met with a head twitch unsettled her routine of self-devastation. Her eyes scouted out the surrounding. Something smelt off, as in an apparition had been lurched in her bedroom for hours. Nothing was there, of course. Nothing was ever there. There hadn't been anything but her for the years that had passed. Deep down, she hoped [i]he[/i] would show his face, either to end it all or to just talk to her like they used to.[/color] [color=FF5400][b]"Come on! Show yourself...please..."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Quietly, she turned to sobbing, her face breaking down to her hands. She cradled it with dainty fingers and soaked up her own tears. Her stomach rumbled. Through her false loyalty, she thought she'd have been something beautiful. Nothing felt the same anymore. On her light and human skin, the odd feather would brush against her clothing. They didn't connect to her skin, but her clothing felt almost identical to her own flesh. Nothing quite felt the same still. She scraped another tally against the wall, watching it merge into the other countless lines she'd clawed in herself with a rusty knife. Her midnight hair flowed behind her as she wiped her eyes dry, but not clean. With weary hands, she pulled her hood up over her head, forming the [url=https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/480159680509771777/726573157556813864/unknown.png]cowl[/url] she'd grown to idolise. Across the face, her mask was placed, its extensive beak now hiding the face she'd grown to detest. She had become the Raven again. Under the cowl, she felt safe. Stepping out of her hiding house, she walked into the open air, where the World of Fog towered around her. Her feet were light to the step and her mind was once again set back into place. Hunger. She wanted it. She wanted to carry the death on her shoulders. She wanted someone to see what she saw. She wanted to run. She wanted to escape. And in her final lunge, she ran off into the day, sensing a strange yet destructive rift open up on the other side of the foggy metropolis.[/color]