After The Storm
"Christ, I do not suppose we escaped that catastrophe," Adrian breathed, his voice slightly audible as he hugged the cold wave of the emulsion wall. His aspect danced from one swathed branch to the other, trying to make sense of the raw destruction.
Flora shifted beside him, her tone edged with both weariness and determination. “ You say that like it was some kind of palm. senses more like we’re holding our breath until the coming damn explosion, ” she replied, quailing as she flexed her hand.
Vincent, who was perched on a depressed essence president, let out a dry chuckle." Palm? Sure, if we count surviving as winning. I am still feeling every pellet and bruise. What do we do now, also?" He stroked a new bruise on his jaw, his voice saying both prostration and a touch o
