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a$pen fackrell
Twitter: Little_aspen
attackedastoria
Moonlight spills into the woodland clearing, and a mysterious glint catches your eye.
There, upon a bed of moss, lies a crude yet fine dagger that you’re certain wasn’t there before. ‘Where did it come from?’ you ask yourself. Your only answer is the wind passing through the branches of the surrounding forest, the echo of chiming bells and laughter making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
'Take it,’ a voice whispers, a caress of wind with the lingering scent of lavender and damp earth.
You curl your fingertips around the hilt carefully, and the moon above seems to shine brighter as it fills you with a sense of calm and power.
🌙🌙🌙