Back In Orun
With the heat and the atmospheric darkness that was all about, a key noticeable feature of the place in which the two of them, Sunday and Niniola had come to, the form of the Wolf stood.
The wolf said its goodbye to its host, bending down as it sought to pick up the battered figure of Niniola from the ground. Despite how she was right about now, she could still pick out the form of Sunday as he turned huis back and began to move to the World Bridge.
For a second or two, she wanted to smile. To say that she had accomplished that which she wanted to do but the pains in her body would not allow her to. She had taken quite a deal of damage. Usually this might not give even been anything assuming she had been in shape for the recent times. Rather, it had been a while that she had kept shape. All because she had chosen to stick around the only person who did see her as a living being.
Sunday, that was.