{a.war.is.coming.}

The small, pretty tom staggered in, lifelessly. His green eyes dull. "It doesn't matter anymore..."

He wish he could just cry, just let it all out. But he cant. The tears would not come. Pain, was all he felt.

For a moment, he had thought he was a pure white sky, the sky he used to be. But truth hit him, harder than he excepted.

He was no white sky. Dark, black clouds had spread like mad sickness. It's already too late. Isn't it?