Kintla Flatlands Wake me up when September ends

Tears from heaven splattered the youth's already soaked coat. Yuda was only mildly aware of the chill caused by the large droplets that pelted him mercilessly; yet, he'd endured worse weather in blankets of whitened dough his body sunk into more quickly than quicksand. While encased in the snow, the icicled male was also buffeted by a cruel wind that froze him in such a way that his body shook violently and involuntarily.

Knowing that no fury from the gods could be worse than the experienced he held onto almost fondly, even if it had almost killed him, the watercolored boy moved forward with the same pace and same empty look that was always ingrained into the mask that fused upon his face.