by ~Phantasos~ » Wed Oct 16, 2013 2:53 pm
Chance was laying in her hammock arguing with the sailor that took care of everyone's injuries.
Kate looked at the holding cells fearfully and backed up. She ran into Cohen and stumbled sideways as she lost her balance.
"And dreams in their development have breath,and tears,and tortures,and the touch of joy; they leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,they take a weight from off our waking toils,they do divide our being."