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Mist filled the hollow. A lone figure stood within it — red hair lit like a coal, gown thin as frost. Moon‑cut light hung behind her, catching on the fog and the folds. A brief flare of color in a…

A quick entry for the archive. June has been full of small discoveries: the way shadows cling to the collarbone, the way muted tones can feel louder than color, the way a portrait becomes a spell when the subject forgets…