February 6, 2021: Ailyak

Most often than not, Syn bothered herself with thoughts that were beyond her worth. It was as if she took it upon herself to bear the worst of her circumstances.

"You have no conviction, Syn." The lady whispered to herself, disappointment lingering in her eyes.

The combination of the aroma of winter, bearing the scent of roasted pine cones, and the canned coffee, nutty and smoky, within her hand were strong enough to occupy her nose. However, the stench of the car exhausts and the wet dirt from a nearby park still managed to reach her, making Syn's mind even more muddled. The smell clung to her clothes, though that was the last thing that the lady concerned herself with.

Granted that she was fully clothed with clothes that protected her from the chilly air, the frigidness of the metal bench that she was sitting on seemed to have penetrated her muscles, stiffening her limbs. The tip of her nose, the corners of her eyes,