The resilient winds continued to hit Hakumei across his pale forehead, in quite a bittersweet exchange, for the wind was dry and crisp snapping at his skin like a fierce beast, stinging him each moment he remained outside. Searching the skies above his head, Hakumei found himself ensnared under the painted sky, swirled with hues of silver and gray, barely being illuminated by the sun lost within the horizon, sinking further into the thickness and gaseous clouds far off in the distance, as well as the smoke of the far off town, consuming the light within its dire pollution. Though for this graveyard, it ached a sensation of Desolation, though this brought a soft smile to his weary face, his lips perking up in a sick sensation of excitement. It sadly and remorsefully remained recorded on his forehead, lingering there for several moment more. Though the faint scent of roses drifted found the surrounding area. Though the scent and aroma of the flowers of love had far passed it expiration date, for it smelled of withered leaves; it hung to the old cemetery. Clinging to the country side in the form of resemblance of the country liveliness, for a small child wrapped in cloth, bound with his warm clothing. The child holding onto the intoxicating and sweet scent of a concerned mother, then the scent of the dead roses left for the souls who had decided to continue onward, the child soon passed into the storm of the world.
Though his welcome to the Dark Bramble Cemetery was not only brought with this aroma and sight, for the icy rain that pelted his pale skin also greeted him, the stinging rain growing in strength every moment, even the north wind seemed to grow even more upset with the world. Biting the exposed ivory flesh of the newcomer that was Hakumei, causing a flush of red to raise onto his calm feature, this was out of no form of embarrassment bur rather heat. His calm gaze seemed to pierce through the collapsing and clouded sky, the un-gloved hands of his, finding solace within the reaches of his warm ebony coat pockets, being formed of weather resistant material made for such an ideal situation. Though his figure became narrow and stealthily he began to form into a single dark silhouette, melting into the pale gray normalcy of the world. The same routine and appearance of bland colorlessness of the storm bound village before. Though a faint deep ivory light seemingly phased into a lovely and most vibrant orange shade, and colored the canvas that was the sky, with his many myriad and shades. The faint sound of leaves could be hear rustling, and falling onto the unpaved roads of the cemetery. The cemetery itself seemed to sway with the violent and bitter wind, that would continue to bite and snap at any other newcomers who attempted to enter to grieve tot he dead.
Though a Hallowed, near breathless sigh escaped from those pale stung lips of his, only subtracting more colors from the bleak surrounding of Dark Bramble Cemetery, his lips loosing their scarlet luster within a heart-beat. Even though Hakumei kept his footsteps steady, and where left invisible, unheard by the village, being silenced by the many other sounds of the cemetery, though it seemed frost was beginning to gather around the samurai. For he simply watched the surreal reality occurring around him, of the remembrance of his comrades and allies, as well the draining from him of his vigor and mortal life. Replacing it with nothing more but that of a howling and screaming wing that tore straight through even the most protective of clothing, hitting the raw insides of someone. Like the rests of his surrounds, Hakumei shrunk, to harness and gather the select warmth he had left. Also holding it inside his fading ebony coat, locking the warmth inside its reaches. Though the dull color of his scarlet red scarf could bee seen, along with his own scarlet orbs that found themselves locked onto nothing, starring e motionlessly at the base and foundation of the empty footsteps of what seemed to be the ghosts of the crypts, who had made their way though the deserted rows of headstones. Deserted, for their simply was no endless amount of loss, it was the eternal season of loss within this Dark Bramble.
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