G̴̣̻͔̔̀̏o͇̼͈̤ͬ̐ͬ͌̈́n̋ͧ́ͨ͗̓̄͏̝͓ͅe͋̄ͯ

        You’ve come to the wrong place, friend. Best watch your step.

The long winding road that was dusted with ash seemed to stretch on forever, but large looming silhouettes were slowly emerging from the foggy distance. The very pavement beneath him cracks and crunches, unused for a long time, waiting for a visitor.

Up ahead there is something. It looks like a large post…or is it? To his right is firmly planted a sign that says:

ＷＥＬＣＯＭＥ ＴＯ ＳＩＬＥＮＴ ＨＩＬＬ

@hana-tsukioka

all threads that were going on before the long break have been dropped 

if you wish to start again or continue, message us.

There was no way to tell what time it had become, it was neither dark enough for evening, nor light enough to be daytime, stuck in a bizarre twilight zone. 

Up ahead of that young woman’s location, there was to be heard, a soft pitter-patter of footsteps running away and a figure disappearing into the fog, an easy task when it was so thick that visibility was limited to only feet in front of oneself.  To the left was a large worn sign that read:

ＷＥＬＣＯＭＥ ＴＯ ＳＩＬＥＮＴ ＨＩＬＬ

An extravagant garden was laid out before the young gardener, the large trees shot out of the ground but were stripped bare of all life, save for maybe the elegant spiderwebs that were strewn from branch to branch, like party streamers. Deep muted green ferns protected the roots of the trees, and withering flowers tried their best to grow through the blanket that wanted to push them down.

Ash covered the ground, combined with the gray fog that clung so desperately through the air, setting the mood to gloomy and dismal. A well-built stone barrier holds this darkly beautiful scene in, wrought- iron accessories match the gate that is partially hanging open.

A metal sign is fixed into the gate; the only piece of information this place will easily give up: sɪʟᴇɴᴛ ʜɪʟʟ ɢʀᴇᴇɴᴇʀᴇʏ

It matched up slightly with the sign that had been passed on the way here, the sign that said

ＷＥＬＣＯＭＥ ＴＯ ＳＩＬＥＮＴ ＨＩＬＬ

There was no way to tell what time it had become, it was neither dark enough for evening, nor light enough to be daytime, stuck in a bizarre twilight zone that had no indication of either.

Up ahead of the current location, there was to be heard, just barely, footsteps running away and a figure disappearing into the fog, an easy task when it was so thick that visibility was limited to only feet in front of oneself.  To the left was a large worn sign that read:

ＷＥＬＣＯＭＥ ＴＯ ＳＩＬＥＮＴ ＨＩＬＬ

You’ve come to the wrong place, friend. Best watch your step.

The long winding road that was dusted with ash seemed to stretch on forever, but large looming silhouettes were slowly emerging from the foggy distance. The very pavement beneath him cracks and crunches, unused for a long time, waiting for a visitor. 

Up ahead there is something. It looks like a large post…or is it? To his right is firmly planted a sign that says: 

ＷＥＬＣＯＭＥ ＴＯ ＳＩＬＥＮＴ ＨＩＬＬ