(Old description, too)

More practice from earlier. This one was from a moment where I heard some pretty frightening news. Writing sometimes happens in those moments.

This is my fursona, essentially. The form changes depending on my mood (anthro, feral, demon.. y'know.)

Curled up, desolate
Solace in the loneliness
Keep me soft, keep me safe,
Keep me from that quiet space
Where the silence seeps so loud,
Where dust and bones arrest the proud,
Keep me hidden, keep me low,
so to that place I cannot go.