A SYLPH DYING
Perhaps it's cruelty that the gates look like roses. The smell of them wafted through the air when everything fell, and you've detested them ever since. You wonder if there's something you're forgetting.
Perhaps it's cruelty that the gates look like roses. The smell of them wafted through the air when everything fell, and you've detested them ever since. You wonder if there's something you're forgetting.