Isabela Evergarden
First Step into Woodcrest
The bus hissed softly as the doors opened, and the cold breath of an unfamiliar city brushed against my face for the first time. I stepped down slowly, feeling the rhythm of my heartbeat echo against the blood-red pendant resting on my chest — a silent reminder that no matter how far from home I am, I’m still me. Woodcrest watched me in silence, like a sleeping beast waiting for me to make the first move.
First Step into Woodcrest
The bus hissed softly as the doors opened, and the cold breath of an unfamiliar city brushed against my face for the first time. I stepped down slowly, feeling the rhythm of my heartbeat echo against the blood-red pendant resting on my chest — a silent reminder that no matter how far from home I am, I’m still me. Woodcrest watched me in silence, like a sleeping beast waiting for me to make the first move.