the_contessa

The camp sprawled across the uneven scrubland like a forgotten puzzle, tents pitched haphazardly around a central fire pit that had long since crumbled to ash. Stars punched holes in the black sky, in

Hel Lokidottir sat cross-legged in the meadow, the wildflowers brushing against her thighs like insistent fingers. The air hummed with the lazy buzz of insects, and the resistance camp's distant chatt