I threw in the towel after the third wall of text. Fuck's sake.
Madness string 112000
The River runs through the sands out of myth and into legend. The Painted River runs the other way. One is barred to the Centipede now, but she finds ways back in, sometimes.
How quiet is the silence, the complete silence. Why is the sun black in the morning? The snow is falling, it covers the ground, it covers everything. The pain subsides, and the fatigue.