Balrog stood halfway down the garden path, in one hand he held a small black box and in the other a crumpled sheet of paper. The pale sunlight glinted off his shiny boots and there was a touch of frost in the air, Balrog sensed the approach of Winter. Overhead a flock of black birds whirled in flight, constantly casting glances in the direction of the roof. What will you do?
No information available
No information available
No
Not Rated