sleepwalking
11-30-2016, 09:50 PM
| Darkness in the winter is different. It's thin, pale, incomplete. Poser is the only real shadow here, despite the fact it's long past midnight. He walks on nights like these. He likes these evenings. They really are the best for the soul, feeding him, allowing the shadow to grow stronger. He is strong. He is beautiful. It's fantastic. All of it is fantastic. There are dozens, thousands, millions of stars in the sky he walks beneath. Cutting through this incomplete darkness where it filters through the trees, he's looking and thinking of the lands where he walks. Where he wanders. Head high, a kick in his step. There's fresh powder around his feet and more falling softly from the sky. What a soft sky it was. Everything about it is... fantastic. So there's hope in his heart. There's this idea that maybe he won't have to spend so much time alone. There's a hope that maybe he can fill his heart back up with all the things that were supposed to matter. That was the hope. Here he was, after all. Walking and waiting and hoping, surrounded by fresh fallen snow. poser breathy way of saying my name |
![[Image: VVdK7m3.png]](http://i.imgur.com/VVdK7m3.png)