Ancient Fallen Tree
Gray wood protrudes from the ice and powdery snow, the leavings of a tree much larger...
Gray wood protrudes from the ice and powdery snow, the leavings of a tree much larger...
Summary coming...
Summary coming...
Summary coming...
Arid, Comfort, Desolation, Orc, Shelter
I pull back the bowstring like a circus master pulling back the curtain. What flies forth...
The battlefield is my circus: my bow bends like a contortionist and launches my arrow...
Like a juggler at the fair, my hands move in complex spirals—too fast to track, too...
Summary coming...
Summary coming...
Summary coming...