𝗦𝗔𝗖π—₯π—˜π——β”€β”€π•π€π”π’π“π„πˆπ (M.D || 80’s)
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The wind howls like a wounded beast, dragging its claws across the barren expanse of night. Beneath a sky bruised with storm clouds, a lone figure walksβ€”an unrepentant specter of flesh and bone, carved from the marrow of war and silence. @Vaustein’ πŸ«€
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𝗦𝗔𝗖π—₯π—˜π——β”€β”€π•π€π”π’π“π„πˆπ (M.D || 80’s) right away.