10/17/2025, 10:46 PM
Artok woke with the aun as he always did. The weakened limb was painful as the days grew colder. And he straightened it with a snarl. Whites of teeth flashing. Pain.
And not for the first or last time. He cursed the name Tuwawi. A small ember of unbridled hate for her. He would always hold it close.
He began to stretch and move. His limp more pronounced than usual but slowly loosening.
And not for the first or last time. He cursed the name Tuwawi. A small ember of unbridled hate for her. He would always hold it close.
He began to stretch and move. His limp more pronounced than usual but slowly loosening.