The most beautiful stories,
always start with wreckage.
~Jack London
***
The females smile at me. Accept me. They think that because I don't want to train, I am accepting my role in staying back, finding a mate, and letting him control my life.
Mate.
I'm not sure I will have one.
Not sure if when he finds me.
He will want me.
I look at their disapproving eyes as they take in my paint splattered hands.
"Lexie, why don't you wash those?" The Luna shakes her head. She doesn't approve. She thinks I waste my time.
But she hasn't seen me paint.
I look down at my red, orange and yellow.
Mixtures of brown. Some white can be seen.
Autumn.
I was painting fall.
I look up and smile, "I've tried, but it's so hard to get it off," the females laugh. The Luna shakes her head but leaves i
