Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. ‘Do not beg my pardon. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber.
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This video was uploaded to zbrushcore.club on 19-09-2024 21:15:35
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