Vasto Grom (01/19/1990 / Houston, TX)
As I find myself next to her I feel her strength, flowing from her just as the warmth radiates from the sand under our feet. She reaches out and takes my hand in hers and holds it tight. I look at her and smile then speak but a whisper that we will see tomorrow. For but a moment the serious look that has adorned her face falters and a smile forms. She turns to me and and tells me that as long as I am with her, she feels deep down that she has the strength to believe that she can make it another day. I lean over and kiss her cheek softly as the last rays of the fading sun sends its fleeting light over us. We both know that once again we must do all we can to survive yet another night in this land consumed by the darkness that spawns evil from its shadows. But niether of us yet feel the cold grip of fear for as long as I have my dearest Salean, as long as I hold her close I know I am not alone in this world of madness. And for as long as I stand beside her she knows in her heart that she will never be forced to relive the terrors that have long since hunted her.
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