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"The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could
and I was permitted to sit
All she needed now was one last string of hair and her love would finally be hers
delicate musk and light citrus all around her
Howling Moon The Bonfire "The thousand injuries of FortunatoNotes of pine, patchouli and rain. Smells like thunderstorms, ritual circles and dense fog. They danced under the moonlight wearing nothing but their own ambitions. As each of them locked eyes with one another, they slowly started to laugh. A laugh that could penetrate the soul with its pitch. A laugh that slowly started to sound like a howl. 8 oz coconut soy candle, 40 50 hour estimated burn time
