The volcano has been dormant for living memory, but our stories tell of angry Gods casting the heavens charcoal for months. The rumbling anger was so loud that the sky fell down, almost kissing the earth that was starved of light and clean air. It's hard to imagine, if it weren't for the peak being a little sharper than most I'd just laugh it off. But according to the tales the death toll was high, taking everyone that couldn't flee on horseback. We pray that it never blows again, but what can we do? This is our home.
Keep track of your favorite writers on Descriptionari
We won't spam your account. Set your permissions during sign up or at any time afterward.