Within Entrails Devoured by Putrid Winds

A miasma of decay hangs heavy in the air, thick with the reek of annihilation. The wind, a putrid serpent, writhingly around the mangled corpses, ripping flesh from bone. The remains gleam like gems in the morbid light. A symphony of groans echoes through the valley, a chorus of suffering as the innards are devoured by the winds of oblivion. This

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