Test sorry :) -- Thinking Peak

[ the being rose out of the sheer, utter inertness of the night that consumed all that was locked impetuously within the dome that was the earth, becoming a shape, an existance, out of what had been nothing, molded, shaped into the breadth of a steed that tore over the desolate trench as a fiendish plague... hellish she was not; not of the spawn of lucifer, nor of any sap of his cursed claret.. perhaps she was but powerful, held within the apparent grasp of her own identity that she swore to have it known to those who should look upon her, a creature which represented all that was truely feral in nature.. her lithy horns grasped tentively at the scape of slick, pasty mire, a million clods of muck and dirt splaying in her wake as an ill-natured banner, held within the unspeakable power of the furious brume, then settled, settled to give light to the others who lay within the path of the femme, light to rise, to hold, then to fall as so many others had endured before... the thick, stifling haze rose about her in ceaseless protest, driven by the very breath of the winds themselves that echoed among the pine, sifted through the stalks of frail wheat, fingered perceptively at each tiny blade of grass in an attempt to clear its name of the demonic title that it had so rightfully earned... the mists swelled with each furthered stride.. each moment that she could have been free of the smoltering mess, another clasp of fog rose about her breast to lock her within the prison that it had gayly bestowed, crafting the form of her own self, following her amarinthely in constant persuit of its pointless chase... finally.. all at once, the vixen plunged herself at the wall of ardent silk, a roar escaping the tapering lapse of her pursed lips, flowing as a depositless stream from the stem of her reverberating larynx... her form crooked from the bony fingers of mists that had held her roiled until that point, the prudence of their dance sifting into the crisp air of the decorous morn, each strand of his prosaic tail forcing through the barrier, not a strand forgotten within the hellish prison, heedless to the whim of its midst.. she was free... finally, free.. a new land, a new destination, a new life, a gift from god ]

identity insomnia

duration six years

sex feminine

hue crimson

descent arabic

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