Chapter .2.

The most beautiful stories,  always start with wreckage.  ~Jack London *** The females smile at me. Accept me. They think that because I don't want to train, I am accepting my role in staying back, finding a mate, and letting him control my life. Mate. I'm not sure I will have one. Not sure if when he finds me. He will want me. I look at their disapproving eyes as they take in my paint splattered hands. "Lexie, why don't you wash those?" The Luna shakes her head. She doesn't approve. She thinks I waste my time. But she hasn't seen me paint. I look down at my red, orange and yellow. Mixtures of brown. Some white can be seen. Autumn. I was painting fall. I look up and smile, "I've tried, but it's so hard to get it off," the females laugh. The Luna shakes her head but leaves it be.