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Weekly Contest #292
Emory often thought about the adventures she could have had, had she been a little less of a Blackthorne. Children played just beyond the window, kicking around a magicked ball. The ball gained a life of its own, whizzing about, chasing the chubby brunette boy that kicked it. She envied them often. Days rolling in the fields and giggling with friends over shared berry tarts were never part of her childhood.“Emory! Even the saints won't have the patience to deal with you. Are you listening to me, child?” Brennan Blackthorne booms. Brenna...
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