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The lush leaves stretched out in the dark night like the mother earth's fingers, attempting to touch the myriad creatures she had created. When the daylight vanished, even the tender mother could have a change of heart.
Her children, once cradled in her palms, were met with indifference, their last sight in the eyes of death.
The flowing blood had coagulated, severed limbs hidden amongst the leaves, soon to become sustenance for the microorganisms and germs within.
The cold wind displayed its sole act of compassion, allowing those lost souls wandering in terror to linger a while longer in their mangled bodies, bidding farewell to the lives they once knew.
Liveser and Dreya carried away their comrades' corpses, leaving only Devonrayla's greed and their own abandonment behind, to know no peace.
They couldn't even be considered losers, merely expendable, mere jesters.
In this land of despair, the cold wind brought forth the wanderers of the night.
