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by Ryn the Sylph of Heart 4/4/2013, 5:29 pmI take a deep breath as I walk into the cabin, knowing that this might be the last time I not see it. Most people might say the opposite but this was the hour before I began the journey to regain my vision. I might . . . I might be able to see. Slowly my doubts resurfaced. What if I was born blind? What if it's just a dangerous waste of my time? I wasn't sure. I quickly packed some ambrosia in a bag and a canteen of nectar. I hung my sheathed swords at my side while my scythe still lay on the bed. I picked it up. Unsure where to store it, I just carried it. Gods it would be annoying if I had to walk. Though, most mortals would see it as those walking sticks for the blind. Because of my stellar sense of hearing and my memory, I never really used one when I came to camp. When my first aid supplies I headed out slowly.
