Wrizzit
For everything, down to the scribbles.
For everything, down to the scribbles.
If a soul made a sound, I think mine would be wind-chimes, a full yard of them as the winds of life rattle their chaotic percussion. Sometimes when it storms the larger pipe sized chimes smash against their base causing an eldritch hummed echo heard in the night, but with every crescendo, comes a calm breeze countering the storm till it is still again....