Every since I was a kid I was taught to fight for what you wanted and never to give up. Pain only last for a moment my father said but being a coward last a lifetime. You could heal physical pain but emotional scars cut deeper. So deep they sometimes never healed. I lost my parents at a point in my life where I needed them the most. When they were attacked I did everything I could to save them but it wasn't enough. For years I blamed myself thinking that if only I was stronger they would still be alive. I was sixteen and newly shifted at the time and there were so many rogues. Despite my protest they tried to protect me and when they couldn't anymore I did everything to protect them. They were injured but still breathing and through it all my mom keep screaming run until she took her last
