Art&concept by Ol Albireo
Feel free to write your stories and name arts.
You also can do not only write, but draw, sing, create music and sculptures, translate into other languages you learn for practicing (and never simplify text when you translate it!). Show us that you did.
The sun began to set, the desert was showered with gold, the sand shimmered, drawing a sunny path, as if on water. Majestic silence somehow imperceptibly spilled into the darkening air. A thoughtful mood seized the people. Frey exhaled throatily, intoxicated, admiring the beauty of nature, carnivorously looked at Iska, the turquoise eyes of the Viking smiled radiantly.
“Won’t you stay the night with us?” Rajim asked without turning around.
“No, brother, not this time, the road is long, we want to spend the night outside the desert,” the Viking replied.
The son of sand nodded in understanding.
Some more time of pensive silence and the desert let the travelers out of their nets. Frey and Iskander said goodbye to Rajim, the children of the sand remained with their parent, and the caravan moved on.
Iskander turned back, it was like the first line, crossing which he said goodbye to the house. He again went to the north, involuntarily remembered that first campaign. How different they were. Iskander chuckled and glanced at Frey. The Viking seemed to radiate sunlight himself. The sheikh involuntarily admired the man, stroked the scar given by the northerner with his fingers. Something will happen on this journey. Must happen.
Take everything. AlbireoMKG