You wake up with sweat trickling down your forehead, your tunic sticking to your chest and your hands gripping the earth below you. It was That dream again. You pushed yourself off of the ground and wrapped your cloak tighter around your body. It's fucking cold outside. you thought bitterly.
It's been weeks since you've woken up and you still have nothing on what person you used to be. Walking over a scorched hill you look around and grumble something under your breath. You began to run over what remains of your memory, My name is (Y/n), I'm seventeen, and I really need a bath. you chuckled at your last mental note.
You scanned your surroundings and frowned
alyssa take good fucking notes this is winning the next new york times best seller i stg