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How he loathed the sun. That sun, which made those mourning fools watch on as their loved ones slowly rot and waste away like the winter before them, all united as victims of the sun’s burning heat. And yet he feasted still upon their screams. Oh, how he was soothed by their horror, cleansed by their hatred. Hatred that was more his than theirs.
Ithaqua finds her, a victim as well of the scum of the earth.
Bookmarked by Minkne
13 Mar 2025
