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... estering groan underfoot, each step like crushing some viscous organ.
The branches of towering ancient trees twisted into postures of prayer. Gnarled vines dangled like hangman’s nooses. The undersides of the leaves, a sickly bluish-purple, oozed a fluorescent glow in the eternal twilight.
A cloying sweetness, a mixture of rust and musk, floated in the air, reminiscent of countless wounds slowly healing only to be torn open again.
Occasionally, patches of light filtered t ...
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