End to a Rivalry
Sonic's anti-self-scourge the hedgehog was pacing and muttering to himself and had worn a groove into the forest floor. "why can't i control myself when i see them? i'm trying to become friends with them after all so why can't i stop attacking them?"
A Battle To Be Sung.
He grunted and stood before looking down at himself, clad in but simple grey cloth pants and nothing on his chest, worn sandals on his feet but also a small dagger imbedded in his gut.
THE FRONT: PART 7
A wound stripe was a small brass plate inscribed with the words the wounded stripe, and was to be worn on the left breast of the uniform.
The devil's home
A broken, weather-worn, wooden sign. i couldn't read it, only make out one word. "house!". had i been able to read it, this may have ended better. i had decided, in a pure, curiosity over intelligence, to approach.
Scarred Love (Page Eight)
I just sighed and closed the door, leaning back on it i slid down it and landed with a thud, dreading having to do anything or go anywhere, i was worn, tired of life itself, my thoughts taking a interesting turn.
Misconceptions- Interlude
He blindly reached out and touched my clothes, as if i didn't know how worn down they were. he pulled his hand back and rubbed it against his pants before putting it back on the wheel.
Hedona Chapter 3 - The Voice that Sought Silence
With a sigh the reading man closed the worn-out notebook. the deer leaned over the bar, resting his heavy thinking globe on his hand, like a prized jewel on a pedestal.
Zion: The Final Night
Taggart sighed as he gazed around the battle-worn city. so much pain, blood, violence, and death had been spilled across the walls and grounds.
461 The Implicate Order
#12 of sythkyllya 400-499 the age of worn bronze confused?
Missing
The cracked and worn seat let out a hiss as i collapsed onto, my weight pushing the air out from remaining padding. i held my breath so that i could listen in absolute silence, nothing.
Moon Tide: Chapter 3
His clothes were well worn, but cared for at the same time. his black hair was wild and unkempt, but if combed, would have just barely covered his eyes and ears. he rarely missed a detail thanks to his wide and attentive hazel eyes.
Same Old, Same Old
Through taking stock, i found a suit not worn collecting dust, a ghost of my past trying to burn me down, and a mind filled with loneliness. i am a slave to routines, and a dog to my fears.