| My most favorited picture |
| My most favorited picture |


Sleeping with the rubble. Our hero awakens, slumped against the metal grating of some decrepit old square, pieces of rocks scattered about her, some large and some small but all rocks jagged and sun bleached. A white, crumbling cross, towers above her, along with a massive headache and no memory to go with it. As she pushes her light blue hair up and out of her face she rips a strip of fabric off of the arm of her blue coveralls and ties her hair up in a bun. She dreamily looks up to see the sun right in her eyes, very parched and hungry she can see a hovel of some sort just barely a stones throw away, cylidrical in shape it seems to run right into the ground, wearilSleeping with the rubble. by ~Tregor
