The Erill of Sherill wrote a Throme. It was a deep Throme, and a dark, haunting, lovely Throme, a wild, special, sweet Throme made of the treasure of words in his deep heart. He wrote it long ago, in another world, a vaguely singing, boundariless land that did not exist within the kingdom of Magnus Thrall, King of Everywhere.
This is fabulous to read aloud and makes me very happy, it's lyrical, poetic and romantic.
This is fabulous to read aloud and makes me very happy, it's lyrical, poetic and romantic.
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