
Gray Spells
The wind.
The breath of life. The chaos of a storm. The beautiful mass of wind that surrounds us all, that maintains our life, that can suck us dry. We watch, and dream of days when the clouds will gather, and the sun's rays will weaken. And night will be eternal. The Dark will be forever. The Grays have allied themselves with us in the past. We hope to have them with us again. And then... the storms will come. The wind will blow, and all will bow like reeds before it.
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