Topic: Fog | |
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Fog wraps in growing tendrils round the lights that wreath the bay.
Hiding in its billows the shadows of the Fae. Creeping slowly onward, where the mother hides the fawn, in desperation goes the fog to escape the coming dawn. Yet again, as ever, the mountains bar the way. Fog becomes a blanket and fades into the day. |
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Edited by
Dreadaye
on
Wed 09/16/15 03:37 AM
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Vividly penned & picturesque.
Thank you. |
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Vividly penned & picturesque. Thank you. :) You have a few of those on here yourself. (vividly penned). Thanks. |
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lovely enjoyed reading ty
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