Slowly it creeps, dragging itself round in those last, laboured pushes of life. But still, there's a light beat and rhythm - the same as there always was. Though it is dying, the tick hasn't changed. It carries on, quest-like and determined. It longs only to live. Just one more day, just one more day.
It counts its last days with a soft tick and the slow-spinning of a skeleton head.
9:34, 10:46, 10:55
It counts its last days with a soft tick and the slow-spinning of a skeleton head.
9:34, 10:46, 10:55
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