TokenGinger

The dark creatures carried the youth for what seemed an eternity, the hero passing through wakefulness and sleep as seamlessly as the change from day to night. The visions he endured through both consciousness and slumber were nonsensical. He was perpetually locked within a cycle of dreaming. The clear, pure sky of the hero's high home mingled with the rusty horizon of this new world. The thick trunked trees of the forest with their young green leaves shriveled to twigs of their former selves. The soft, moist soil of the ground was replaced with dirt lacking in nutrients. The soft grass was traded for the hard shoulder of his captor. The chi