Something is pulling at the threads of my existence... a restless, heavy stirring in the deep dark. Every drop of blood spilled in anger, every shadow cast by a dying flame—it all calls back to me. I can feel the hunger rising, spreading through the veins of this world like a fever that won't break.
To those who feel the sudden chill, the frantic racing of your pulse, or the shadow that moves when you stand still: do not mistake it for strength.
