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Post by jenniferyoung on Jul 7, 2014 21:42:42 GMT -5
As the nights begin to grow longer again, creeping slowly toward summer's end, across the known world, even beyond the borders of Sheng Tai, the wind in the trees each night seems to grow more and more restless. At times, sailors and kings alike swear they hear voices trapped within its desperate howling. As the leaves of the trees begin to slowly die, falling too early, their colors draining too fast, where mighty trees once stood for eons, upon the breaking dawn, their caretakers swear they've moved ever so slightly under cover of darkness when no one observed, inching slowly southward night by night...
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