WF35: The Seven-Coils
 |
“On a bed of dunes beneath a red low sun a monster wrestles itself while attendants crowd around its flanks. It is flabby and huge, the colour of dirty sulphur. Fanged tentacle-necks wrestle like kittens. It tears cheerfully at its own flesh, and the blood that flows is golden. It flops over in a cataclysm of wattled flesh, crushing a knot of attendants. The others scream or cheer.”
[ RESTRICT / NON-REGULABLE ENTITIES ] See also: The-Lady-Afterwards ◆ ◆ |