Desertum.
Proudly does the nighthawk spread his frayed wings. The marble halls of Florentia are now nothing but a dog-eared memory. The Macedonians now encircle his every thought as they cling to his side, day and night.
@Andromache. The other barbarian and his companion.
His father; no knowledge of where he is. His brother; dead.
His throat closes at the thought. How pitiful a life to live, now.
He stands tall atop a gold-capped dune, the blistering heat of early August earning a squint of mismatched eyes. His jaw grinds; he thinks of the wispwoman, the golden girl now widowed. Her kingdom, fallen. How was she feeling? How was he to feel about her?
Signs pointed to wanderlust with the crumble of the old world. He resolves to return to her.
Proudly does the nighthawk spread his frayed wings. The marble halls of Florentia are now nothing but a dog-eared memory. The Macedonians now encircle his every thought as they cling to his side, day and night.
@Andromache. The other barbarian and his companion.
His father; no knowledge of where he is. His brother; dead.
His throat closes at the thought. How pitiful a life to live, now.
He stands tall atop a gold-capped dune, the blistering heat of early August earning a squint of mismatched eyes. His jaw grinds; he thinks of the wispwoman, the golden girl now widowed. Her kingdom, fallen. How was she feeling? How was he to feel about her?
Signs pointed to wanderlust with the crumble of the old world. He resolves to return to her.
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