Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24449631-20140901211815/@comment-5583506-20140902173805

Myling exited Riften's north gate and was on her way again. To where? She didn't know that herself. She didn't really fit in anywhere. Not even Rowan seemed to be able to put up with her, and she didn't blame him for that. She could barely put up with herself and her way of living. When she wasn't in the moments of being dragged off to some shadowy being, she was trying to blend in to whatever society she came across. So far she had been failing.

She felt as though she was a rabbit, running away from dangerous predators by night and shying away from beholders during the day. She didn't know how much further she would be able to put up with it. Sometimes she wished for that eerie voice to come and finish whatever business it had with her once and for all. She clearly didn't belong in the world of the living as it had stated.

On her way to Shor's stone she sank to her knees and broke down crying, believing that the Gods had created her just for the sole purpose of having someone to torment with misery and misfortune. She clutched Gastbane tight as if it had been her dearest. Her only friend. She had thought that Rowan would have wanted to be her friend, but even he dismissed her.

"Why", she shuddered. "Why was I even created?"