Genur.art

Rain struck her brow, stung the ragged, open gash of her wound. She halted, looked up, to see Moon's Spawn directly overhead ... weeping down upon her ... ... and upon the field of corpses surrounding her, and, beyond and to the right, upon thousands of kneeling T'lan Imass. The dead, the abandoned, a wash of deepening colours, as if in the rain the scene, so softly saturated, was growing more solid, more real. No longer the faded tableau of a Tiste Andii's regard. Life, drawn short, to sharpen every detail, flush every colour, to make every moment an ache. And she could hold back no longer. Whiskeyjack. My love. Moments later, her own tears joined the salt-laden water running down her face. <lora:Anime_v1.3:0.8> <lora:drmSTRXv1:0.8>