[This is her looking at her own reflection in the river. Her face shows nothing, but her eyes says a lot about her own hatred and anger that lasted for centuries.]

. . .

[Her voice came off as a quiet hiss.] Of course I was young once. Who wouldn't thought of that?

Oh no, I'm away from home! What is this place? Momma, where are you? Momma?


[OOC: Pronyma is 6 years old. :O]

( [Private] )


I haven't forgotten this journal existed. What a peaceful place. I really like the environment here. At least I can leave my troubles behind and worry not a single thing.

I have been learning to bake things lately. It is something new I haven't done before. I'm experimenting baking this cinnamon raisin bread.

Something very interesting happened. Suddenly, the entire world is dark.

I could get used to this even if it's temporary.

[This is her, sitting on one of the bridges so she could stare at her own reflection on the river's waters. She flutters her pastel black wings, they don't hurt as much anymore, but they were still sore on her back.]

. . .

I didn’t expect to wake up [Quickly added after she realized she’s writing in the journal and she has no idea where she is or the true nature of this place] so shortly after a few days of fighting with Lloyd’s group again.

The only injury I sustained is nowhere to be found, but my wings. . .they are. . .very strange. [Won't admit she's in pain]

The room I’m in is quite droll. Nothing here is interesting and worthy, but all is not a waste. [Hogs the blanket to herself.]