𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. you're the one game i'm never sure if i'm winning or not.

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

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     She was eight again, feet jumping high as her nursemaid held tightly into her hand. She rumbled to herself, sang a song in Kaelish about sailors and fair maidens. It was the one the nanny taught her. Her curly hair jumped with her feet, one of her arms holding tightly into a toy of a mighty green dragon. It looked better than any child she passed by could afford.

     She always had a red ribbon tied somewhere in her hair. Now it held a tiny ponytail that pulled away the fronts of her hair out of her face.

     "Stay still child. You're going to jump off the bridge," scolded the nursemaid, giving her a narrow glare as they walked down one of the bridges. She could feel how horrible the water underneath it smelt.

     They'd pass many people on their morning walks, but a boy always caught her eye. He was around her age and she was desperate to play with him. Anyone really. Ever since she saw children play at their ship. But she never knew how.

     This time when they passed next to him, she was ready to speak up. It was her nursemaid whose attention always wavered at the exact same spot on the bridge. She'd look out into the line where the morning sun would stand just above the water and she'd melt into the feeling of home.

     Only this time the child pushed her tiny hand into the pocket of her coat, grabbing the coins she desperately held into. She was so mesmerized by the view she didn't notice she was gone until the girl was giggling in a far off distance.

     She laughed all the way down the street, hearing the woman as she shouted in their native language, but no one could understand her. She ran as fast as her little feet could hold her which was faster than a girl her age could. She made her way between people's feet, running through a crowd unharmed, her little toy still underneath her arm and hand gripping on the coins.

𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 ↬ kaz brekker.Where stories live. Discover now