They would die, a few at a time, in the name of the faceless god he once had called master. Her jaw was a little too wide and squarish, her nose a bit too long, for classic beauty.
- .
- .
- .
Sun and wind, man, what are you doing.
They would die, a few at a time, in the name of the faceless god he once had called master. Her jaw was a little too wide and squarish, her nose a bit too long, for classic beauty.
Sun and wind, man, what are you doing.