Losing Time [Rough Draft]
What was the worse day of your muses life? For tenebrae_nostro
The blood drips slowly off the broadsword; the winter is so frigid as if to make the metal of it cold enough that the blood nearly freezes as it sluggishly reaches the tip. Amelia's black worn leather boots pound against the slick and slippery castle rock as she storms through the torch lit hallways ( Read more... )
The blood drips slowly off the broadsword; the winter is so frigid as if to make the metal of it cold enough that the blood nearly freezes as it sluggishly reaches the tip. Amelia's black worn leather boots pound against the slick and slippery castle rock as she storms through the torch lit hallways ( Read more... )
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