sexāgintā   quīnque

"phew phew phew phew..."

It flexed it limbs delicately and rhythmically as it tried to find a pace for its soul. It had been walking since voluptuous wiles then and the limbs were beginning to remonstrate.

The plague of the weariness would soon be transported to the eyes and then other parts of the body would also have to share the plights birthed.

Few trees were scattered around the woods and there seemed to be some gaunt paths which actually led nowhere if throdden.

Many of the paths were fashioned by the duel of the rusty rain and the sassy sun. Even felon frost has contributed to the sway of the paths.

Only hails were yet to be noticed, for the apt azure wouldn't give what was not included in its scheme.

Some earth in the woods were damped and some were dry. It hadn't noticed the thrills of the winter, but the rusty rage of the salient summer had let the pangs of heat bruise peace and feeble fate trained by time.