Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25924729-20151107020221/@comment-26571677-20160104114605

Amilanthior stepped out of the airship, and breathed in the pleasantly cold, winter's air. He really did love the cold. They were now in Atlas, and the temperature, for one, was much lower than Vale. There was also an abundance of snow everywhere, unsurprisingly.

As he stepped out of the luxurious airship, he felt the satisfying, *crunch!* of the snow under his boots. He drew up his hood, seeing the air in front of his face puff out. This was his ideal environment. Everything about it seemed so perfectly suited for him.

He would move here if he could. But he still had his Team to worry about. The very thought of leaving them, betraying them, stabbed him physically in the heart. Still though, his relationship with the ANGEL had been destroyed, and would have to slowly be repaired.

A friendship takes minutes to make, seconds to break, but years to mend.

That quote couldn't be more truer than now. And he would take the first step, by saying sorry.

He turned towards the ship, eyes and hood downcast, and started walking back to the girl in blue.