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Date Posted: 12:11:31 03/24/02 Sun
Author: Kaios
Subject: entrada

Femora ingresses 'pon sodden terrain. The scenery about the belle hasn’t changed much. Still, the noon sun kisses the signs of death: the land slowly strangled as it is deprived of the necessary instruments and elements that are needed to become bountiful once more. Grazing is the antic decided upon, and ivory enamels reach out to grasp at the pale, bittersweet vegetation, munching upon it languidly. Mug is raised momentarily skywards, shrill bugle emersed froth from chest cavity. Femme calls to all, letting them know that she claims dominance here.

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