• In a quiet little town the wind whistles. It speaks of it's worries and doubts...
    and if you listen real close...you'd think you figured it out.

    But she knows better. Broken souls share bonds but no stories.

    And that was good enough for her. In her gracious amount of good fortune and happiness she could not seem to figure out the reason behind the creeping depression that hid behind every nice thought....every nice feeling. Her and the wind had a friendship, you see, they would forever be slipping through the cracks of society...blowing your hair gently and never making a mark.

    But those....

    Those who listen closely can hear it. Those who don't, hear it in all of it's rage. When the storm has already hit and the trees have already been knocked down.

    Humanity only notices the problem when it's already begun.