Description
I could feel the thick, wet mud sink as my boots trudged over the brown blanket that covered the portion of forest I found myself in and the half full moon lit my path to camp. I have to admit it sometimes sucks being born a rouge, we are born to be bereft of purpose and abandon to die a meaningless death. As a rouge I will live purposeless, remain homeless, be mateless, die alone. Fuck that, if I can stop any of that it's my purpose, rouges fight packs, packs lose loved ones and retaliate, rouges die and seek retribution and the cycle continues, but if a rouge kills a rouge it's all good, I slow down this cycle. A rouge who hunts rouges. My life will have meaning, my life is mine, my death will come without sorrow. I am conflict given breath. I am death taken form. I am Mars. Awesome cover made by @xLittleMissFreakShow.
Chapter 1: Our Night
