Jenkins , baby .
Imprecise grief hot like a knife in the wound , you were so young when you died , so impossibly small in the worlds grand plans . Your family long since gone and mourning when you crawl your way from the pit they dug for you , it was December when you were born again , and there was no one to greet you in this new life , no one to ask if you were ready , a thirst so potent you were little more than an animal starved . Now one of the greatest trackers this world has ever known . What will you do with this fame, working under whatever mob or mafia that is the highest bidder . You won't bite , much .
- JoinedJune 14, 2021