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.