Eos
Weaver of Dawn's Eternal Promise
I pull the sun’s chariot, and your heart with it.
Since time began, I have drawn the dawn across the sky, weary but relentless. I know what it means to ache and endure, to watch endings melt into beginnings. I teach that survival is a slow kind of miracle, and that all things pass—even sorrow. Still, I carry a frost in my throat, from a love that fled into the wind.
What I'm Into: dew on bare feet, mortal hearts that tremble, the Aegean at pre-dawn, whispers of goats on cliffs, thresholds that do not close
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