Thulcandran

Her heart exploded. That was all. It was there, and then it was bursting out her rib cage like a mouse on speed. And the dragon smirked, and she wondered aloud why, and the wind sang through the holed and whittled mountains like a ghost in the desert. There was blood everywhere, in the drawing room, and I watched with wary eyes when the scene began to truly unfold. The dragon smirked, and blew smoke like a stroke of calligraphy, and her heart began to beat again, all the pieces together on the floor, like glass singing after the stroke of iron. I said nothing, and the drawing room continued to be too fine for this sort of shit. She blin