Kyoshi Frost Wolf

I'm sorry you weren't feeling well, Bestie. I hope you feel better now. 

Honestly, I would rather have my life back on the fields. Driving mr Robinson's tractor, after he unfortunately went missing with his nutritious family six months ago. But this is good, I guess. My family is here. We are still dying off, because we are wildlings or godlings. But yeah.

And I miss my own family. It reminds me of my drawing from early childhood. Picturing me and my sister. And then a bunch of people; some very small, some gigantic. Some with skewed features. We carbed wood and made idols that honored our animal nature. We brewed alcohol. We howled like wolves into the night, and then we hunted, and we let nothing go to waste. Not even the marrow. It was a ritual. It is our very spirit. Visceral and brutal. But also mesmerizing in a beautifully haunting way. So much so that the dreams are still calling to me.

But this is okay, too. If we consider that the alternative was getting killed by the civilized people. So, I will keep up with this civilized act as long as I can, without compromising my true nature. And then become a homeless beggar for the free food. Because I just don't have it within me to keep up with the sophistications of civilization. It is not the kind of animal I am.

But yeah. It was an interesting life, for which I am thankful. Though, a very fake one.

I really hope you are doing okay.