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“She went down softly in the distance, nothing more than a feather falling gently against a pond, barely visible through the red mist and dark fog surrounding her. Not a sound was heard beside the caw of the crows nearby and the rustling of leaves. The cries of the damned, after all, were seen but never heard.” — Jo Grospierre
She went down softly in the distance, nothing more than a feather falling gently against a pond, barely visible through the red mist and dark fog surrounding her. Not a sound was heard beside the caw of the crows nearby and the rustling of leaves.
The cries of the damned, after all, were seen but never heard.