Westron

Winter winds go forcibly through a landscape. The palette changes as you watch. Going through a field of this and the forest at the edge. Do you only imagine this lavendar light? It is like a dry washing machine, a washing machine of air. And you are in the middle of its violence, like a garment trying to escape but following the rhythms of the machine. Trying to think less while walking in heavy winds won't work. Winds, especially these winter winds, have mastered reverse psychology. They know you will try to retreat to silence. They are like the pressers of old. They put the stones of winds on your mind and force all your silence out.

It may be their unfairness you come to love.