A stranger is a danger to society.
That's what they say, anyway.
But I want to prove them wrong.
I must, if I am to live.
Oh, I apologise, dear reader, for leaving you in the dark while I rant on.
My name is Soluna. Soluna Etre.
This is my story.
It started a week ago, it was the start of winter, and all was silent. On the first night, I met him, a figure clad in red. His hair was auburn, the same as my mother's. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. He had such a strong, arrogant stature, even when wounded. He must have been in so much pain… I could not leave him out there, alone in the cruel, harsh blizzards.
And so now, here I am, awaiting trial for housing a stranger. Only, he wasn't a stranger. Not to me, anyway.
