This is the last chapter! I'd like to thank everyone has read my story.

Hope you like it! :)

More or less

[Foxface/Finch]

The throat is burning and demands fresh water. the tongue fills with pustules and becomes rough like sandpaper. The eyes pinch, but I try not to completely lower eyelids. I see a few berries slipping from my hands.
In my head, it flows quickly the image of a butterfly in flight. I saw her a few days ago. I wanted to be like her: small, fast, insignificant.
According to science classes, it should already be dead. Or not?
However, I will soon.
Not died for my nature, but by my will. It's better than nothing, right?
I'm a butterfly. More or less.