the walls glittered prettily about, reflecting shards of morning light that penetrated from the outside. inside, all was quiet and serene. icicles cold to the touch, but so breathtakingly beautiful. each razor-sharp point fingered lovingly, honed by millennia of patient dripping.

an avalanche in the distance. the ground rumbled unsteadily, unleashing writhing cracks in the clear glass. barely a moment, but lasting an eternity.

white knuckles unclenched from the icicle. a scarlet splash, spattering the pristine floor.

twilight would be beautiful in this place.