by ~Phantasos~ » Wed Jan 09, 2013 1:05 pm
Chance thought for a moment then shifted into a small white wolf. She darted forward and stole on of Cowen's shoes then ran to the lobby.
"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."