A week of swallowing frustration leaves it looking for a way out, usually sideways, at someone who didn't earn it.
Deep crimson, the heat you keep turned down, edged in black. It has the feel of warm steel and the dry scent of hot metal.
Suppressed frustration doesn't vanish; it leaks. It pushes nothing away — it holds a place to meet the turned-down heat directly, so it has somewhere to be felt instead of leaking out elsewhere.
Light
Keep it where the week's frustration builds.
Witcher
Sit with the center, breathe down steady, and let the swallowed heat be met without aiming it at anyone.
Sealed in the archive. Only the sigil that comes to you today opens in AR.
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