The grassland of Dura, once a vast plain of peace, a place one could just stand and stare into the endless expanse, enjoying a view of peace and otherworldliness.
The sound of millions of grass blades fluttering as the wind danced through them refreshed and soothed the mind. A sacred hush used to linger here, like the land itself was holding its breath in gentle awe.
But currently, those same grass were trampled under the hooves of soldiers, hundreds of thousands of them at each others' throats.
Their war cries shattered the stillness, and blood seeped into soil that had known only dew and sun.
