<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Who: Shade When: Tria 47, 81380 Feeling: Angsty as usual, keeps shooting water at bugs.</td></tr></table> Wax and wane, wax and wane, Watching from my window pane, Guardian of the night... Shade took the paper he was writing on and scruched it up. The poem was rubbish. He didn't need it. He trudged further through the swamp, shuddering as the mud squelched underneath his paws. Why was he here in the first place? He racked his brains but couldn't find any memories, although there was a thills face. He blinked as a bug buzzed too close to his eye. Zap, he froze it, and it hit the water with a musical plop.
