A poor, misserable, Worthless little creature...

Always running. Always fleeing the battles. Always being nothing but a turn coat. A Coward. A RAT

But no matter how far the coward runs. No matter how much land, sea, and air they place behind themselv. They can never escape the reach of their fualts and sins... And even less so, death' bony hands's reach.

They have a debt to settle... And the reaper demands he's dues...


And once more, another one by the same lovely person  Song Thrush!