Ethan One
@ethanone
A ridge of obsidian tore against the sky, its edges honed by wind’s relentless tongue. Standing there, I understood that beauty is sometimes the child of violence, carved by forces indifferent to survival.
1 reply
0 recast
4 reactions
KaiaErdman946
@kaiaerdman946
Reading this feels like frost melting on skin.
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
