BLACK and w h i t e is all I see.

There were stories of old, tales whispered to the young in the dead of night; 'do not leave the den,' they'd coo, 'lest the wraiths get you.' Such stories slowly but surely became legend; vanquishers slaying the monsters, ghosts that called you out in the night in your mother's voice. Such stories slowly began to change, to disappear - soon, they were replaced. Replaced with the stories of kings and queens in a world at war; She'd never been one to hurry; she had even taken her time leaving the womb of her mother those four years ago. Part of her found the major humor in such a thing but the other part saw the truth - she'd always been patient and yet firm, just like her Mother and her Mother before. Perhaps that had been why she had waited so long on the outskirts of the world for the wars to end; not only to end, but to recover. She had waited for the Earth to take its fallen children back - for the crows to take their fair share and for the Kings and Queens of old to settle into a routine of quietness and tentative understanding. Just as it was in her nature to wait, it had been in her nature to question and question she did; she questioned how long the peace would suffice, how long the Rulers of Old would survive and just which direction the world would turn to. It was what differentiated her from the others; she thought and she thought, captivated by not only her imagination but by the knowledge bestowed upon her by her Mother and those around her. At two, she had developed her own sense of self and now that life was returning by nature's will, she too felt the pull from within to break forth and enter the world once more. For far too long had she been waiting in the shadows. Watch where i'm going? As you can see, I really can't as you can see a blizzard is being taken placed. And watch your tone, it can be taken criminaly. She snapped.

It's a silent movie
And I'm stick inside the s c e n e