I don't own things.
I love to ride in the mornings.
The crisp air whipping against my jawline is refreshing.
It helps me to forget about my brother.
I'm always cleaning up his messes, that jelly-brain.
He's the reason I had to pack up and leave the Begnion pegasus knights.
I had finally found something I loved, friends who shared my interests.
Then, when I was finally getting comfortable, I had to fly off to save that lunkhead.
I guess I can never have stability in my life.
Like when mom died. Dad would drink so much. Brother wasn't there, either.
He would leave me in that house with that violent man.
I wonder if he's still alive.
I doubt it.
The bottom line is, Makalov isn't there for me, but he's all I got.
You can't pick your family, after all.
He's probably gambling right now.
Guess I gotta get back to earth and put a stop to that.
It's time to get my head out of the clouds.
The sky is the only place where I don't have to smile.
I have to act cheerful once I land on the ground.
But how I love to ride in the mornings.
Well that was curious. Oh well. I guess I was just wondering how Marcia lives with a brother like that. Not too much thought put into this.
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