Though the fields appear a shimmering gold, the harvest thins with each passing year. As the frost bites deepe…
Though the fields appear a shimmering gold, the harvest thins with each passing year. As the frost bites deeper, the wheat stands blighted and hollow; vast stretches refuse to ear at all. Yet the desperate farmers toil on, praying the spring thaw might yield some meager pittance to eat. But if even the hardy grain struggles to survive this bitter frost, how can those of flesh and blood endure?