We meet again my new enemy
The night rolled over bringing a threat of a storm. Light was covered by the rapidly falling night. The bright blue sky transformed into an ocean of blackness. Shimmering stars illuminated the moonless, jet black sky, as if to remind us that even in darkness there is still light. The air was still and heavy, thick clouds covered half sky. A cool breeze swept the alienated street. Owls swept silently overhead. Even shadows were swallowed by the encroaching darkness. It was the witching hour, the one moment the spider-witch was able to see and enjoy the ghouls that seem to surround every region she visited, specially the Swamps which she made sure to make her unofficial home, in order to rest her old bonest. The winter cold came whispering sweet nothings, luring heat from tired muscles until they could rest no more. It caressed the witch skin until it stole the pink blush and replaced it with blue. Above was the beauty of the stars, and her mind roamed again how she will never be allowed to see the glorious sun again. Even if she was cursed she still had light, the only notion of brightness that she was always surrounded with came from a full moon, and even her light was a chilled silver beam.
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