sleep until [open, joining] the sun goes down

[marian .]

MARIAN MONROE

✯ it's the god that heroin prays to ✯

space

Marian had caught wind of a new group being formed just this month, so she set off to find it. she could only see acres of land, wandering along the path with a saddle bag slung across her chest. upon seeing a building, her chest fluttered with hope and she made her way faster down the path, heels on dirt, the frills of her dress shaking with the wind as she speed-walked. She had been journeying for quite a while so a building was beyond relief.

"[shadow=pink,right]Hello[/shadow]?" She called, gloved hands coming to her chest, where her dress ended, in case she needed to grab a hold of her switchblade.

She pursed her lips upon finding the shack empty but for some tools. A shed, she figured. Of course. Marian kept walking, her hands holding the strap of her bag that kept thumping against her hip. She found more buildings, luckily with people, as well as a dog or two. She gasped, pink glove coming to her red lips before she hurried over. Hopefully this place was as nice as she heard. If not, she had her switchblade and a steady hand.

"[shadow=pink,right]Hi, hello! I'm friendly! Don't shoot[/shadow]," she gasped, as if out of breath, hands raising.

space

✯ she/her. wren's sanctuary. medium. REF. BIO. ✯

#psychosocial.