
Dezaos
Aug 25, 20241 min read
8.25 by Andre Ornelas
August 25th, 2024 The wind felt cool as it touched the sides of his wings, orange reflections across the water as far as her eyes could see, the smell of salt whisked their beings "Are you sure our place is out there, flight passed the unknown land?" "There is land there, to rest our aged wings." Clouds guided their path down the endless. Blues, reds, and grey were their last sights.
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