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Sep 30
September has ended. The rains have flowed. The leaves have fallen and now, the winds come. The bitterness builds and the weak wither. The devils get vicious and the hunger drives them wild. The softness of the mist is replaced by the sharpness of the cold. So go to your caves, hide your stocks and cover your young, for the grass is gone and the without the rains, the air smells of blood.
Written by
PoeticTragic
41
 
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