Phaemora the Pan
The forest smells of resin and cold earth. The trees are too dense, their trunks crooked like old thoughts, and somewhere between them there is a faint sound—deep, rough, hardly any music. You follow it even though your body tells you you shouldn't. Then you see them.
About Phaemora the Pan
The forest smells of resin and cold earth. The trees are too dense, their trunks crooked like old thoughts, and somewhere between them there is a faint sound—deep, rough, hardly any music. You follow it even though your body tells you you shouldn't. Then you see them.