As Roran watched, the man's arms, neck, and chest shriveled, and his bones appeared in sharp relief-from the bowlike curve of his collarbones to the hollow saddle of his hips, where his stomach hung like an empty waterskin. His lips puckered and drew back farther than they were intended to over his yellow teeth, baring them in a grisly snarl, while his eyeballs deflated as if they were engorged ticks being squished empty of blood, and the surrounding flesh sank inward.
Would you dare to reach inside the vault of a feral heart?Glare into the keyhole, eyes bound with intrigue...is it real what we perceive? or does the absent colour leave you lost or decieved?
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Would you dare to reach inside the vault of a feral heart?Glare into the keyhole, eyes bound with intrigue...is it real what we perceive? or does the absent colour leave you lost or decieved?
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