This is not a story. I repeat this is not a story. It's supposed to be descriptive writing…supposed to be…

Oh yeah I don't own Digimon either. Well I did last night when I was asleep. I also ruled the world and owned 30 sheep. Then I woke up.

Evolved thoughts

She thinks I don't hear her. But I hear - no I sense her musing silently to herself puzzling over yesterday's events. She is confused - and my heart reaches out to her. She is so cold and lonely yet her body is host to the true heart of a warrior. And a compassionate warrior at that. A façade of ice ensraning a heart of purity, trapping the golden rays within a merciless temperture of sub-zero. An interesting thought. Poetry in motion.

It makes me feel angry that no one has even attempted to help her. No knight in shinning armor to come riding to the rescue to pick up the broken pieces and remould them into a new jigsaw puzzle. But where a knight will fail perhaps a vixen can succeed. A kitsune to mend the broken heart of her Heartbreaker.

So you see, it doesn't matter that no one else is going to save her. Because I'm here. I'm here to breathe the vibrant colours into her life again. This warrior's been living in a world of white and grey for too long now. A world that beginning to blur with tinges of cruel, emotionless black…an endless ocean…

I open one eye and I see the confusion clouding her wonderous lilac eyes. I watch as for a split second as the walls of her frozen fortress melt away and reveal the shadow of the real girl within. A soul crying out for freedom and love. The philosper in school uniform closes her eyes and gives a heavy sigh, weighted down with bewildement.

A lump comes to my throat. I swallow it down.

Her eyes flash open. Mine snap shut.

"Kybuui?"she asks. I stay silent, as though dead to the world. My chest rising…falling…

Rising…

Falling…