He is dead.
Fell in front of her.
It was a silent afternoon.
The whistling wind blew her clothes and the hem of her skirt fluttered like a Gesang. She thought about all the things in the past and felt sad. A tear ran across his face and landed on his brow, adding a hint of chill.
The world is in a blink of an eye, and the past and present are in a blink of an eye.
She had waited for him for thirty thousand years, but she still couldn't keep him.
She smiled and tried to wake him up.
He shouted hoarsely but got no response. She slowly leaned over and got close to his cheek, feeling a cold feeling rising up.
She howled, whimpered, sobbed... Then wiped away her tears and hugged him hard. The red of Gesang and the quiet ice blue are exceptionally incongruous on the green grass, yet surprisingly harmonious.
She planted the Gesang flowers in the sky that he loved. When the flowers bloomed, they reflected the sunset in the world.
Anyway, since his burial, he has been alone in the world.
Concept: Fantasy