Blackfeather Woods i'm so lost thinking our love was a lie

this woman greets you,

miktrull turns towards her at the sound of her greeting, lifting above the malicious whisper of the unquiet woods, the crackle and hissing pop of fire that lingers always in the moments of these ... memories.

geist draws in a breath; she is an apparition of moonlight; a small light in this otherwise gloomy place.

hu — to speak, even after all these years is hard. it requires more effort than he would like to admit. the vibrations, the push of air up his vocal chords to form sounds is ... painful. strained.

hello.

a single word, but still an accomplishment.