Snippet #2681108

Fang Ling didn't notice the roar, as she was lost in thought, staring at the ground. Because of the latter fact, she also missed the streaks of white.

Her thoughts were going in circles. In the end, she haltingly began to talk.

"I don't think I was born on this world", she confessed, "Things were different, less advanced back home. Even civility was a commodity shared only amongst the upper and middle layers. I must have known kindness at some time -There's no way I would have survived my earliest childhood without it-, but it's not something I can remember. I was always just 'that filthy orphan' or 'that little rat'.

I can't understand the feeling of losing your childhood, as I'm not sure if I ever had one to begin with. There were no friends, just predator, prey and tentative ally. And I hated it. I hated being looked down upon, I hated not having anything. I hated envying them. I hated the scars they gave me, simply for existing.

Put most simply, everything hated me, and I hated the world in return.

I may not be there anymore and I may have changed my outlook because of that, but some things stay she same.

The scars on my body and psyche remain."

She looked up at the woman with a mournful expression and said,

"I don't think I will ever be able to get over my fear of swords."