i learned to breathe fire. i learned to be cruel.
(i still cried about it.)
but you.
i see you small. and withered. and dying.
and i see you swept away by a rescuer i have come to hate
i hope you get to grow,
never have to learn to breathe fire,
never have to be cruel.
i hope it gets better.
i got really emotional thinking about the silly happy ghast from minecraft, ok?