Aurelia
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
maybe they never will be
Aurelia stood before the towering tree, its emerald canopy a defiant beacon against the encroaching lilac of the tainted Oerwoud. Golden seedpods, like captured sunlight, dangled from its branches, an invitation and a promise.
A shiver of awe ran through her. This tree, birthed overnight in this desolate borderland, was a symbol of nature's unwavering fight.
She approached, her fingers tracing the smooth bark, feeling the pulse of life beneath. A seedpod, heavy with promise, rested in her palm, its golden shell gleaming.
This was more than a seed.
With renewed determination, Aurelia turned towards Torchline. The seedpod, a precious cargo, nestled in her pouch. It was time to plant the seeds of hope, to reclaim the world from the void's clutches. The Oerwoud might be tainted, but Aurelia would not surrender. She would fight, heal, and rebuild.
A shiver of awe ran through her. This tree, birthed overnight in this desolate borderland, was a symbol of nature's unwavering fight.
She approached, her fingers tracing the smooth bark, feeling the pulse of life beneath. A seedpod, heavy with promise, rested in her palm, its golden shell gleaming.
This was more than a seed.
With renewed determination, Aurelia turned towards Torchline. The seedpod, a precious cargo, nestled in her pouch. It was time to plant the seeds of hope, to reclaim the world from the void's clutches. The Oerwoud might be tainted, but Aurelia would not surrender. She would fight, heal, and rebuild.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
when you're ready to sleep
