As he watched over the white werewolf curiously wandering around the woods, he could not help but cross his arms and compare her to the girl in their first interaction. From an angel, now to a creature closer to the devil than the angels.
Her halo’s now cracked, her white wings stained by blood.
She gets more and more evil the more she’s attacked.
He cannot imagine her lending a hand to a wounded pup anymore. He could imagine her better with violence in her eyes rather than mercy. And they will never be those kids again. He should also stop seeing her as the only pure good this world has—because look what the world does to those who are pure.
Her purple eyes darted to him. Her new eyes were rich, enchanting, and enigmatic. She exuded a gloriously regal presence, what with the elegant m
