i seek something more, something elusive, like silver sand. now I think I found it, and there, its gone again.
Aritra lived in stark isolation. silence, isolation, the focus of every hour were not just necessary sacrifices he made to the alter of his quest, but gifts of love; which there was deep pleasure in the act of giving. but for one night, gust of pandean wind blew the smells & sounds of the city of men over the walls of his fortress