Purple is one of my favorite colors...it just encompasses a lot of personality to me. (and it has nothing to do with it being my school colors either) However I'm not a big fan of lilac, lavender, or grayish light type purples. Deep, rich, royal purples are what I love...and they're so hard to find in clothing here in the States. I'm serious you guys it's almost infuriating. This is why I make my own skirts!

(How do I update so fast? I don't write these in order. That's how.)

Purple

"Send me a sign!" She called out into the gray skies, "A...hint! Anything!"

Plopping down onto the snowbank in front of the two signs, Anya slapped her chin into the heel of her palm, furrowing her brow in both frustration and contemplation. Of all the impossible decisions in the world, how could she make this one? Down one road her future was secure. She was sure to have a job and a life down at the fish factory, working the markets until the sun set, allowing her to sleep until dawn the next day. Down the other...she didn't know. Was she afraid of the unknown? A little. She didn't like jumping into things unless it was her last resort. But the unknown didn't frighten her.

Okay. Maybe it did. But that was half the fun.

Something shifted in her pocket, but she ignored it until a raggedy little gray puppy leaped out from behind her in the snow bank with her purple scarf in its jaws.

"Hey!" She called out in surprise, repeating herself with a dry laugh as she reached her arm out to grab the scarf. The puppy pranced just out of her reach, running in a circle that caused the scarf to make tracks in the snow that encompassed the dog's paw prints. Anya sighed, giving the pooch a wry smile.

"I don't have time to play right now, okay?" The dog frolicked about her, "I'm waiting for a sign."

Their eyes met, and in one swift realization Anya saw exactly what the dog wanted to do, and knew that the dog was overwhelmingly willing to do it. In that instant she stood up and snatched one tail of her scarf before the fire in the dog's eyes would lead the puppy off into the wilderness with her scarf still clamped in its teeth. Setting a fire of her own in her eyes, Anya tugged on her scarf.

"Give that back—," the dog danced about as if this was a game, "Would you just—gimmie that back!" Growling happily, it ran laps around Anya, tying the scarf tight around her skinny legs before tearing away, causing the orphaned girl to trip and fall face first into the snow bank as the dog hopped away merrily, scarf still in tow. Pulling her face from the snow, Anya spat out the slush that was melting in her mouth and readjusted her hat. The dog was standing just a short distance away down the road to St. Petersburg, the purple scarf crumpled around it as it barked and wagged its tail at her. Pushing herself up and away from the ground despite the biting cold of the snow on her exposed fingertips, Anya brought her legs underneath her as she smirked skeptically.

"Oh, great. A dog wants me to go to St. Petersburg." She cocked her head at the dog and narrowed her eyes, wondering just what type of a pooch had the nerve to do that and stay within bopping distance of the original owner of the stolen item.

Then it hit her and she gasped. The dog gave a few more shrill barks as she stood up. Maybe this wasn't exactly what she was expecting, but then again, it was a fork in the road. Either way she went, there would be new things she didn't think she would encounter, right?

"Okay...I can take a hint...,"

She took the end of the scarf and shook the loose snow off, then looked up to the glistening path as a gentle breeze brought glittering snowflakes to her cheeks. Snapping her eyes shut, she gripped the soft purple scarf fiercely.

Did they really send her a hint to walk this direction, down this path, towards an unknown future? Was she really supposed to believe that someone out there was looking out for her, that someone out there was going to look after her, call her family, invite her to be part of a home? She was just one small, scrawny little nobody with no past, half of a present, and only a probable future. There was no possible way she had any connections with anybody else in this world; she was an orphan, lonely and lost.

But still those dreams that she always had, the dreams of a family whose names she once knew. She had to have them somewhere—eight years of her life were shrouded in darkness, only familiar to her in the night when her dreams pulled at her heart strings to pluck out melodies that she had long forgotten. They existed. Other orphans were different because they didn't have a clue. But she had a clue, and that clue led her here, to this forked path, to the beginning of an unknown journey that all started with a gray little dog and her purple scarf.

She was an orphan, yes. Lonely and lost. Brave and determined. Scared but willing to fight to find her way. And if she didn't find her way, she was going to forge her way with her spirit and her fire—she was going to be somebody in this world because she knew that's who she had to be, and god help anybody who was going to try and stop her.

She stood up and breathed in the cold air, feeling the dog by her side as she took one step forward towards the beginning, her pulse pounding rapidly in her ears.

Heart, don't fail me now.