You follow her, a puppy at her heels, inhaling deeply, trying to stay rooted in the present instead of whisked away into the past. You've been doing your duty, aiding the war effort when it's your turn, but sometimes it isn't your turn. Sometimes you deserve rest, deserve a break, deserve peace. Of course, deserving something does not mean it will come. Peace does not come to you, peace is so far from your mind in this moment that you don't even bother asking for it. Because you know it won't come, you know it's wasted breath, you know it's nothing but a dream that you should get to have peace. No, each limping step still calls forth the chant in your head that won't go away. Drugs. Drugs. Drugs. Drugs. You need them.

And yet, puppy as you are, you wouldn't dream of letting the Phantom Seeker out into this word alone. There is too much evil, too much waste, too many monsters ready to jump at her without a moment's notice. You are her guardian, her savior, her knight in shining armor, if she will let you be. Why? Because she infectious. She opens her mouth and you are left hanging on every word, she moves and you follow with your eyes and body, she shifts and you thank the gods for the winds that might brush against your hide. She is perfect and you are but a warrior, and she won you over with her cunning and words. But even if it wasn't only lust, as you tell yourself it is, you are not worthy of her perfection.

You follow her to the form of a sleeping beast on the ground, a miniature monster who have a rush of instantaneous feelings for. First of all, you're the only addict around here- no need for competition. Second of all, he's a moron sleeping on the ground unprotected like that. However, on a lighter note, he has commanded the attention of your, no, the, Phantom Seeker, and you find yourself able to listen to her once more, eating the words that aren't meant for you but enjoying them anyways.

And you hate to ruin the whimsy of her voice with the brusque grumbling of your own, so you only snort and step up beside the Phantom Seeker, looking around you with cautious eyes, watching for signs of monsters in the shadows. And all the while, memories poke at your mind, threatening to break through what little sanity you have found. You try to hold them at bay, but you are not an unmovable force and your memories are an unstoppable wind that will find their way into every crook, cranny and crevice of you mind. Given time, they will take you down. So you return your gaze to the Phantom Seeker and try to lose yourself in her violet eyes. You convince yourself it's for the sake of your sanity.

Oxy