Stone monoliths pave your way, disgustingly twisted, and reaching for the sky you can almost hear them cry out. Parched, feet dragging, and your vision fading you spot a crow perched atop one of the twisted spikes just up ahead. You crumble to your knees and disembodied voices whisper in your ear, "I feel your despair. I taste your sorrow. Enter my Fortress of Memories, oh champion of tragedy.". Your legs are given new life as you stumble forward, black-feathered wings wait to greet you in the path ahead.

A Few Burnt Hairs Exclusive!
⋗ 100% Ringspun cotton
⋗ Light fabric 
⋗ Classic Fit
⋗ Grey pearlized tear-away label