Puretaboo
Bree Daniels, Bella Rolland, Lucas Frost Pic(s)
The water, a sheet of obsidian under the bruised twilight sky, shivered as something immense and ancient stirred in its profound depths. A slow, powerful ripple, more a swell of the lake’s very soul than a mere wave, rolled toward the shore with a hushed, liquid sigh. The air grew thick, charged with the scent of wet stone and deep, cold places, a primal perfume that made the skin prickle with anticipation. Then a curve of slick, dark hide broke the surface, gleaming with a phosphorescent sheen, its texture like worn velvet over impossible muscle. It moved with a languid, serpentine grace, a living penula of shadow and myth, each undulation a silent promise of untamed power. A low, resonant hum vibrated through the wooden dock, traveling up through the soles of the feet to settle deep in the belly, a tangible frequency of pure, otherworldly presence. The creature’s wake lapped at the pebbled beach, a gentle, rhythmic caress that seemed to whisper secrets older than the surrounding mounta. For a breathtaking moment, a single, unblinking eye the color of polished amber reflected the dying light, holding a universe of ancient knowledge and silent hunger. Then, as silently as it appeared, it submerged, leaving behind only the trembling water and the echoing certainty of a mystery that was now gloriously, undeniably real.
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