Ruler

From Create Your Own Story

Waiting delivers you from the valley of clouds underneath your feet. Radiation fog subsumes this valley, dotted by sinuous black fells. Your hand is almost yellow compared to the noir surroundings. It is unclear: whether you are dreaming, whether you have a routine, and what your face looks like. You can't move as you're not hygienic enough for the ground, and it becomes sanguine after your acrid steps in the instances you know of.

Nothing inventive can be done. He described you as a "haggard, corrosive fool" a while back, and you wonder if that's why

Do you: Wonder if that's why Contact the snowman Find a pitchfork Move