Description "Innocence", he said, while his eyes fell away and slowly slid their black irises to study the mist-laden woods around him. "Losing your innocence, is like losing a limb." The smile that appeared on his lips was neither cold nor warm - it was colourless. Flat. "You can still live - you can move around. But you will never dance again, not like you once did. You will never run across a meadow without a shadow drifting over your heart." The eyes returned. Slowly lifting - swaying…
Olaf Meems
