SugarBit

.:~Hokova's Secret Gift~:. The mountain air was laced with a spring essence touch, still holding onto the crisp coldness of winter while allowing the pleasant promise of warm summer air twine in between. Though the tendrils of warmth still clung desperately to the air, it began to slowly fade more and more with the gradual setting of the sun. It's last rays of light turning the blue sky into a breath-taking collage of oranges, pinks and indigos. The intense vibrant colours of light bathed the plain of flat land lush with spring-time fresh grass, turning it a colour that only nature itself could perfect. On the very edges of scene bathed in l

"Does it hurt?" Crash looked over his shoulder, his attention drawn by a soft, slight hesitant whisper whose words held a hungering curiosity beneath the surface. Behind him he saw Dracula's newly adopted daughter, a vampire whose age was considered to be nothing more than a babe's amongst their kind. And by that softly etched face that held nothing but kindness and politeness; the petite, gentle posture and round innocent eyes that held a curious interest for everything they saw, Crash realised that the description wasn't far from the case. "Does what hurt, princess?" he asked, admitting that he was genuinely curious on where her question

036. Birth Strong fingers curled around her so much smaller hand, an impossible kind of strength tugging at her arm; pulling her frail body upright so fast that Rebecca feared she might barrel into the wall opposite her. She slammed into Tony's jacket covered chest instead. Swallowing the lump of embarrassment that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat, she pushed away. Tried to back pedal away from him and into the comfort of her own personal space. Only to fail to do so when she discovered that any remote strength her body could possible hold had disappeared, leaving her limbs powerless, her body that of a rag doll. Her legs collapsed.

001. Beginnings Cold, so cold. Ice wrapped over her skin like a coat she couldn't take off no matter how hard she tried. The air was bitter, nipping at her skin with millions of sharp little teeth. Snow and frost covered the grimy cement she lay upon, pointed upwards in tiny spikes that poked into her flesh. The metal of the dumpster she lay next to radiated wave after wave of frozen air. The cold ate at her skin, drilled through her bones, chilling over the very core of her; seeking to make her a lifeless statue forever frozen in place. She brought her hands to her mouth, praying that her life breath was just that little bit warmer, that