Clarakore Posted January 12, 2013 #1 Share Posted January 12, 2013 There are fires right here between me and you. There are flames rising through night and tribal dancing. Shaman where do you go? Into crossworlds? Where a gnome cobbler fixed these old boots. Just you and me, no need for social ritual. You go this way, I go that... Our tribes makes treaties. We make babies. Bells ring around your ankle. Nomadic romance; high plains. Our child will be one with no enemies. One day all mankind will return to this place. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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