Heir •|• OC Story

Golden leaves to bright green weed sleeves, death will come; the need for life it will leave.

Protect the child from the trees. As she will be the one you seek.

~~--•--~~

'She couldn't mess up any more than this.' Though, she wasn't sure if she shouldn't- the Goddesses were watching, after all. Or, it simply couldn't get worse than this.

She ran her hands down her horns as she pondered the thought, leading them down to run through her short hair before she let them fall. Her forearms rested on her hands, her eyes scanning each individual scar and marking that ran through her skin.

She hated how they glowed Golden.

She hated how the blood in her veins was that of a God's.

She hated the face that looked back at her, that was once framed by long, Royal hair and a crown. She hated how the horns sat in it's place.

~~--•--~~

Started;
Ended;