Even just the gentlest of touch causes a prick, drawing blood from finger as golden ichor begins to drip.
The flowers that were present upon the thorns all simultaneously turn to Abel now, almost... staring at him.
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&&. ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐อ๐อ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐
โฆ.*โข ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ โข*.โฆ
The Elements Were Just Symbols!
The Real Magic Has Always Been
๐ฅ๐ถ๐ด๐ต๐ ๐๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ฒ!
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