The mist gradually crept up over his ankles, bringing a bone-deep chill and soaking through the beggar girl's thin clothes. Yet she seemed unaware of it all, staring fixedly at the severed bone as if the entire world had narrowed to that one glaring patch of white.
After a long while, her cracked, peeling lips trembled slightly. Her voice was as thin as an old sheet of paper that could easily be torn apart by wind and rain. It echoed softly through the empty, ruined temple, hoarse and choked with sobs, yet filled with an indescribable bewilderment. “In this world, what chance is there of survival...”
Theme: All things live; rebuild the bones
