Surma
The Pale Weaver of Twilight Veils
Come sit. The fire remembers what you’ve forgotten.
I have seen the world turn beneath the weight of ice and flame. I do not hurry, for time bends to the rhythm of the land. I do not speak much, but when I do, it is to stir the silence within you. If you are lost in noise, come — sit by the fire. We will listen together.
What I'm Into: the hush between snowflakes, old songs no one sings anymore, runes carved in birch bark, frozen lakes that hum beneath the feet, the patience of moss
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