created by kounalix
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⮚ The Quiet Between Celebrations ⮘ by Kounalix on FurAffinity

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The hall stands hushed; the songs are spent.
Mead-horns lie hollow on the stone.
Smoke thins where golden voices went,
And beams recall their warmth alone.

The fire sinks low to embers dim,
Like weary eyes that yearn for rest.
Laurel and dust grow dark and grim
On brows where joy was lately pressed.

No herald calls, no drum replies;
The banners dream in shadowed air.
Soft-footed silence slowly sighs,
As though the night itself must care.

It knows why hearts once lifted high,
Why cups were raised, why anthems poured.
When all is gone, it lingers nigh—
The quiet keeps what came before.
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Done in Clip Studio Paint; 8 hours; WIP process: https://x.com/kounalix/status/2004296994903543938

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