all i want is to find an easier way

[Urma]

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OOC: ::Word Count:: 500+       The rain seemed to have been going on for days. Its ceaseless rhythm transformed the lands into a grey, desolate landscape, filling the alabaster female with dejectedness and gloom. She had shed her Lupus form in favour of her Optime shape, so as to avoid getting her coat matted with mud and the cold raindrops; she wore a warm orange and purple gradient cloak, clearly visible against her monochromatic background. She was quite satisfied that she had found it in the city only a few days before-- this would stop her from feeling the full force of the cold rain, despite her general avoidance of clothing items. Across one shoulder she had slung her satchel-- it contained the book she was reading, a few sheets of paper and a couple of crayons. The sunflower she wore in her hair, as well as her rainbow beads felt oddly out of place in the face of her upsetting surroundings, yet she tried to let that thought pass; it would do her no good to remind herself of the desolation around here, lest that would somehow trigger the one inside her. Although it was beyond her power of self-restrain not to think about where Pilot was on such a weather, whether he was well or not or at least had the luxury of even a makeshift shelter, she didn't want to plunge headfirst into a worried state-- she knew only too well that she couldn't do anything to help Pilot even if he was in need of that. All she could do was collect her thoughts and try to seal them safely deep within her, where they would not hinder her capacity of functioning normally.       While her musings had clearly absorbed all her concentration, her legs had taken her all the way up to the Skip Caves. It appeared that her feet had known better than her where to find shelter from the cold, unforgiving wind and so she gratefully sought refuge in the nearest cave. It was spacious enough and, had the hard rock of its structure not reminded her, the pearl femme would have asked herself why she hadn't chosen this as a home. She sat down on the cold rock, her legs folded like a pretzel and rummaged through her satchel, taking out her book-- a collection of folk tales and legends from either Roman, Greek, Scandinavian or Egyptian mythology. So far she found the heavy novel an interesting read and so gladly turned to the page where she had left off, where a beautiful black feather, with blue hues, neatly sat as a bookmark. She put the feather aside and began reading, her eyes never once leaving the book, not even when the determined rain outside sent some poor little animals from one tree to the other. As the tales collection slowly took its grip on her, she vaguely realized that her reading had quickened in pace after she had unraveled the secrets of novel after novel simply to pass the time.

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