A Hobbit of the Shire; running free with the winds of the North; I long to ride with the men of the Mark and to sing with the Elves of Rivendell.
on indefinite hiatus
|
mirkwoodroses-deactivated201610:
“I pull an arrow, whip the notch into place, and am about to let it fly.”
The bird, the pin, the song, the berries, the watch, the cracker, the dress that burst into flames. I am the mockingjay. The one that survived despite the Capitol’s plans. The symbol of the rebellion.
this is no place for a girl on fire.
YOU CAN SEE THE TEARS IN HER EYES FROM CINNAS DEATH
*GROSS SOBBING*