by Z.O.
The sound of the island's waves brushing against the shore, the gentle caress of the wind, and the picturesque sight of the ocean mark the last sunset of Zhellia's mundane life. As the aircraft ascends, one thought crosses her mind. Would the wolves she enraged still claw their way back, or had five years in that psychotic society taught those beasts to wear the wool of sheep? She can only guess. Five years must have twisted their already maniacal behaviors.
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