A walk through the Graveyard A rolling slate of fog cascaded its way between the gravestones. It caused the skies to reside behind the tide of ominous, gray water-light enough to hang itself above the soil. Near an unmarked gravestone, someone sat alone. Her back to the grave, as should gaze upon the final resting place. The young girl with almost perfect white hair had just a touch of silver resting on her shoulder. She wanted to cry but could not recall why. She seemed far too young to be laid to rest but in truth, within the house of death, all are a welcomed guest. She felt weak, yet strode to her feet, and walked along the hallowed rows of the reapers keep. Some graves like towers with inscriptions of their final hours.
As she walked the ruffles in her gown swayed with each step every so slightly. An owl perched upon a slender dead oak turned it’s head around to watch her. Uninterested, it turned it’s head back around. Emerging from the ghostly shadow of the fog, her eyes