November 16, 2024, 01:55 PM
The sound of air over sand changes from gentle taps to forceful waves; the dust has come. No move is made to reach for the boy, but the ocelote shifts closer, a wall against the cut of dry wind.
Nokht is gentle, small– and malleable at so tender an age. Soto had given up on diplomacy in the south but here was a thread.
“Where is home, child?”
Nokht is gentle, small– and malleable at so tender an age. Soto had given up on diplomacy in the south but here was a thread.
“Where is home, child?”
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RE: ícaro - by Osiel - November 16, 2024, 01:55 PM