King Elk Forest We stir up the truth, but it's never to harm, steeped in

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: gore!

somewhere far off, a thousand threads unsnarl and bucks clash their tines together in hopes of a harem this winter.

first, she feels her lower half is pockmarked with every shard tool she'd ever known, swiss cheese' d on her back as well. she's shuddering, shaking like the quakes that panged in the teekon moons ago. hacking. hacking spider-like tendrils of crimson and midnight. 

pierced. cheated. defeated.

gnarled knives twist the steaming flesh of her face, she definitely has lost the function of something in there. staggering, rohesia toes into loam for balance like a quivering long yew bow yet to shoot. rage, is all she describe the thoughts her in head. when she looked them smirking at their deeds all she —

rage. rage. rage. rage.

make way her senses stay, whatever is left, leave and die anywhere else. she wouldn't allow herself to be a corpse here, or better yet, she survived and came back to eat the throats of everyone in kingslend. 


beware of spring.