altruis's Den

The rain falls over the savanna, but something feels unsettling as if the storm itself carries a strange weight. The grasses, usually vibrant after a downpour, seem oddly lifeless, drooping under the heavy sheets of rain.. The sky is a deep, bruised gray, darker than normal, and the wind hums in an eerie, low pitch, almost like a distant whisper. There are no animal sounds—no birds, no rustle of movement—just the constant drumming of the rain on the earth. The familiar scent of wet grass and soil is tinged with something unfamiliar, something metallic and sour. Even the trees stand rigid as if bracing for something more than just the storm. It’s as if the savanna itself is holding its breath, waiting for something to reveal itself in the unsettling quiet.