A bruise blooms dark and full on your skin. You watch it fade because it's proof that you're healing, that you're mending outside, and maybe inside too. It crushes you sometimes, the weight of this new world you've been drawn into, and you want to do what you can, but you don't have sharp teeth or claws, arrows or genius, you don't have anything but the unfocused laser of your mind. Sometimes it's enough. Sometimes it isn't. But you remind yourself that it's okay. You're only human.

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