𓂃 ˖ 𝓗𝐀𝐌𝐋𝐄𝐓 ᝰ .ᐟ

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ — ᝰ 𝕿hus 𝘤o𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 ( does * ) make 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 ꩜f us 𝗮𝗹𝗹 . . . ❞

ᝰ ❝ Bringing 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 to their knees, catching them in 𝔀ebs I've 𝔀eaved. You 𝔀ere in my 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 last night, begging me to take a 𝙱𝙸𝚃𝙴 .ᐟ ❞

ᝰ ❝ 𝐎, my 𝖔ffence is rank it smells to 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯; It hath the 𝓹rimal eldest 𝖈urse upon't, A 𝔟rother's 𝖒urder .ᐟ ❞

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ — ᝰ 𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘐𝘚 ( 𝙀𝙈𝙋𝙏𝙔 * ) 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 . . . ❞

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ — ᝰ 𝓝othing quite brings out the ( 𝖟𝖊𝖘𝖙 * ) for 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 in a 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 like the 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 of their 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷 .ᐟ ❞

; ——

ethereal， almost ghostly．

𝐁Ē𝐎𝐖𝐔𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐒 𝐌Ī𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐀

ᥫ᭡ ⁣⁣ ᯓ 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘴 : 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘦 . ♫

๋༻¨♞ ❝ — ᝰ 𝖂hether fate be 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘭 or 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿, Why 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 I or 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 .ᐣ What should 𝐦𝐚𝐧 do but 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 .ᐣ ❞ ⚔

๋ᯤ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ ❝ — ᝰ 𝕾𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 I 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 I've got to . . . 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 , I've 𝐠𝐨𝐭 to . . . 𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 .ᐟ ❞ ✰

i wish to encase the world into my maw, dripping with the essence of my hunger.