Kintla Flatlands ₐｗₒₒₒₒₒ!

From high on the eastern steppes Anselm made his journey home. The road before him was bright by the luminary glare. Most of the forest she’d was bathed in silvery shades of dark and grey, and he could just make out the hint of Paleo in the hills above.

A sound whispered to his ears, distant at first until he recognized it for what it was. Unbidden he threw back his head and lent his voice to the skies, feeling a tiny part of him was ever more involved in something bigger as his song climbed to the clouds.