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... skin the moment he left the center.

His hair was soaked within seconds, the water dripping down from his now wet hair, down to his face and onto his shirt.

The rain as incessant as ever was rather cold this night, and the sound of the water making contact with the ground sounded like a lullaby to the vexed boy.

He continued to trod through the rain, heading towards his house.

It was one thing to start off poor from the very beginning, but it was another thing to ...

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I don’t know why I die, I don’t know why I live.

Divided hunters die of loyalty,

The witch who plays with emotions dies of love,

Cautious fortune-tellers die of trust.

The thief who steals everything has nothing,

The visionary who created everything never existed.

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We are guardians, and a bunch of poor creatures who are constantly fighting against danger and madness.

This journey is life and death.

While drowning was inevitable, they had struggled.

This is the worst of times, this is the best of times.

- Description from novelbuddy