Water.
Water in my nose, my throat, my ears, my mouth.
Water that doesn't feel like water; water that is black and icy tar.
Only darkness below me.
Fire above.
I can't breathe, but there is no strength left in me to care.
I wonder if I am crying.
YOU ARE READING
Bread, Thorns, and Stormcloaks
ФэнтезиEira Fellstar of Ivarstead is a Nord by upbringing and by choice, and that's all that matters. Growing up with a large family in a small village, Eira has always done her best to be a good daughter and a dutiful citizen. But when High King Torygg i...
