by Amelie Rye
The soldiers next to me are shivering in fear, I can hear their prayers of help. I can feel my locket with an old tattered photo of my family as the sea rumbles and splashes my hand. It’s so cold and wet.
I miss my home dearly. The glimmering trees with blinding colours as the setting sun paints the ocean with a golden light. Birds cheeping in the fresh air, as the foxes snuggle up with their scarlet-red fur, grass warm and fluffy and deep furry and snuggling as the foals play joyfully, dashing through the fields, nibbling on apples and hay.
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