When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

When you choose your own way, you lose your happiness

There is always a moment in our lives when we are destined to fall the way we ever feared of.

The small launch bay was littered with debris. A powerful breeze tore at his black silk shirt as Kilroy made his way across it to the waiting shuttle, evoking a feeling like the fingers of fate were caressing his body. __he Hammer_ stepped over the body of one of his fallen crew without a trace of care or concern. The air was rushing past him, like a wind, out into space through the wounds in the side of his ship. Fatigued and desperate, the Hammer was running out of options. His ship was a mess, holed in a dozen places, the life support systems failing. Weakened hull sections were collapsing in pressure bursts. The vibrations that shook the deck beneath him now were not from the engines that once drove her forward, but now from the explosions down below, tearing her apart.

What happened when we died? How were we to know that death wasn't as profound an adventure as life was?

- __ow about flipping a coin;_ she made a pretty remark and the two women turned around andlooked at her irritated.- __hat's right, go ahead, jock about it. You are not the one trying to change her heart, I am, and youknow damn well how painful that can be!__and of Passion