☙ •—• ༻♕༺ •—• ❧

𝖘𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖍

𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏, 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔.

𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏, 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓—𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄, 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒚, 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒃𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒅—𝑫𝒂𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒏𝒗𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒖𝒑𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈.

𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒕, 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒍. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆'𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆'𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒙 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑨𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒚𝒆.

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅'𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍, 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅—𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒃𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑
𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒎.

𝑵𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑, 𝑫𝒂𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒙 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔.

☙ •—• ༻♕༺ •—• ❧

☙ •—• ༻♕༺ •—• ❧

☙ •—• ༻♕༺ •—• ❧

𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒖𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈.
𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄. 𝑯𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘 𝒂 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓-𝒃𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔. 𝑯𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒘, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔. 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉.

☙ •—• ༻♕༺ •—• ❧

" The Cannibal roared. The sound filled the plain. A furnace wind engulfed him. The dragon's long scaled neck stretched toward him. When his mouth opened, he could see bits of broken bones and charred flesh between his black teeth. His eyes were molten. I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. He had never been so certain of anything. If I run from
him, he will burn me and devour me. "

☙ •—• ༻♕༺ •—• ❧

☙ •—• ༻♕༺ •—• ❧

𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

@ MarrinCloud

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

☙ •—• ༻♕༺ •—• ❧
( none of the art belongs to me )