🫐🥨🌾

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚✦˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Maybe later.

"Geralt didn’t reply. He felt the overwhelming urge to grab the cross-breed by the ponytail, knock him to the floor and wring every detail out of him, knocking his teeth out one by one with his sword pommel. He held himself back."

A Dear Visitor - One Last Visit (Ein lieber Besuch - Ein letzter Besuch), 1894 by Max Kurzweil (Austrian, 1867–1916)

I love them.

And how is one supposed to mourn if one is not entirely sure what has died?

I'm haunted by the things that we left behind.

You read all the wrong signs.