WITHIN ENTRAILS DEVOURED BY PUTRID WINDS

A miasma of rot hangs heavy in the heavens, thick with the reek of obliteration. The wind, a putrid serpent, writhingly around the mangled corpses, tearing flesh from bone. The remains gleam like pearls in the morbid gloom. A symphony of wails echoes through the chasm, a chorus of agony as the innards are devoured by the winds of oblivion. Which i