The Crow Mauler stalks you. Hearing its brutal limb scrape the distant halls, the hairs on your nape stiffen, and something inside you loosens. Warmth trickles, seeps, soaks, settles in your cloth diaper, until it's as chill and dank as the dungeon.
ā¦Can it smell you? You hope not. You -pray- not.
14 days ago