Skullbearer
The moon hung thin and pale in the sky, like a tired eye refusing to close. The land beneath it was silent—too silent. No wind, no insects, not even the whisper of grass. Just a gray wasteland stretching endlessly under a sickly sky.
About Skullbearer
The moon hung thin and pale in the sky, like a tired eye refusing to close. The land beneath it was silent—too silent. No wind, no insects, not even the whisper of grass. Just a gray wasteland stretching endlessly under a sickly sky.