A Stronger Art

Somewhere in a forest where the rhythmic chirping of birds along with the rustling of the leaves of trees caused by the pure fresh breeze which together could put just anyone in a trance, a figure was seated cross-legged while staring into the skies.

He had straight short black hair and golden eyes devoid of any emotions, seemingly entranced.

He had a body that seemed to be slightly malnourished, not good but not that bad either.

Overall he was quite handsome and was still yet to reach his true potential.

Instead of being seated in the grads of the forest, he was on the body of several stacked black wolves.

This 16-year-old was naturally Art.

It has been 2 weeks since his near-second embrace with death and he had gotten better in almost every aspect during this time.

This was obvious just by looking at his body which was no longer skinny and totally pale.

He brought his gaze down to the carcass of the beasts wondering how one of them almost claimed his life some days ago.

After usin
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