[ As the flowers catch fire, the field turns to twilight in its blaze. Blazing oranges and crimson reds overtake the scenery, wild and alight, giving out the last glory of their existence within the dream.
It is golden and warm. Whoever these flowers symbolize, their flames at they perish do not harm, at the very least. It is a sight to behold, though, as stems slowly fall to ash, then glint into the frailest of flakes of a glassy white, which wink out of existence. If the inferno ends, they will be left surrounded by crystalline ash. If the blaze continues as she fights, smoke continues to rise as the field deteriorates.
His voice is calm, cutting above the crackle and wisps of hellish flame. ]
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It is golden and warm. Whoever these flowers symbolize, their flames at they perish do not harm, at the very least. It is a sight to behold, though, as stems slowly fall to ash, then glint into the frailest of flakes of a glassy white, which wink out of existence. If the inferno ends, they will be left surrounded by crystalline ash. If the blaze continues as she fights, smoke continues to rise as the field deteriorates.
His voice is calm, cutting above the crackle and wisps of hellish flame. ]
...This is not all of your mettle.