Little Casandra
A knowing spat upon, a burden born. Laughed at, all the while the walls crumble down
Tiny Oracle
A temple where you can lay your grief to rest in flames, flesh on fire at the inkling of touch
A witch in the woods
Hair knotted and lips chapped, she sees, she creates, almost nearly as much as she cackles. She doesn't say a damn word.
Hell bent beast bitch
Because it's simpler that way.
A fearless leader
A goddess
A whore
A queen
A channel
A mother
A broken bird
A crazy person
Absolutely no one
Chose your weapon. Choose your adventure. Choose as if you actually had a choice.
The wheel weaves as the wheel wills.
