Hushed Willows witcher

after murmuring with his kill-brother, the kapitan, about the state of elysium's tenuous leadership, a curious warden ventured down from his alpine realm, and began to lurk over the peace-kingdom's doorstep. by design he went uninterrupted for several hours - careful to remain upwind, distant, and low - as he spied on the placid winterkeep; a willow garden that seemed undisturbed and repellent to the king-sinister that loomed as ominously as an oncoming storm.

it was moondark and dead-still when he descended the ridge and finally approached their borders. the eventide weather was cold enough that his breath billowed like factory steam as he churned down the stone-ribbed path, but the wind had died down almost to nothing, and the sky overhead looked frozen in grayscale. stigmata padded up to their scent-wall in a brazen, military sway, and he bowed his head to drink in the cologne of the supposed elysium superiors.

@Olive