Under an amber moon, they rise from the cold soil to find their home once again.
The hollow hills whisper in anticipation of the prophecy being fulfilled.
Creatures hidden in the forest creep along to see the sea of Wombats shuffle slowly.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
Under an amber moon, they rise from the cold soil to find their home once again.
The hollow hills whisper in anticipation of the prophecy being fulfilled.
Creatures hidden in the forest creep along to see the sea of Wombats shuffle slowly.