(no subject)

[siren_echoes]

Behind the whispering feathers of ravens, the shadow-thick fur of wolves, you breathe. Eye of a dragon, unblinking, settles on the horizon. The mists of ancient memory obscure you, turn you to dream. The raven calls as we stumble through time, watching the spinning cycles and moons and stars and blood red flame consuming everything, the ashes that bloom and grow and awake to reach for the sun. Ancient and young, we are, following paths untread, cloaked in strange humanity within an unfamiliar world. Paths must eventually re-converge… some day…. I pray.