Yesterday, 06:06 PM
I call for you, @Lestan.
The howl started near Swiftcurrent, a few miles out. Then another came, a while later.
Lestan.
This one was somehow further away, an echo of the first.
Lestan.
The time and distance lengthened between songs, leading away, away, miles and miles away.
Lestan, I call for you.
The winter naga waited in a shadow of a squat mountain, and the cold night fast approached. It would be dark on this side of the mountains before anywhere else. The year’s last dying crickets took up their violins.
A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart—
Is My Very Nature That of the Devil?
Is My Very Nature That of the Devil?
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Wire - by Wake - Yesterday, 06:06 PM