“You didn’t make this winter.”
“No, my lady”
....
now—and now—there were two vast storerooms heaped with shining, sunlit gold; the warmth of the summer sun trapped into cold metal for the Staryk to hoard deep inside his walls, while he buried my home under a wall of winter. He smiled at me, still holding my hand; he smiled at me
I'm gonna throw up...
— Apr 07, 2026 12:42PM
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