tell the wolves I'm home
He could practically feel the suspicion slinking through the grass, the slower footfalls of her jog, the calculating airs rambling through. It only ensured more laughter as he remained behind the rocks, watching as she seemed to pulse and pervade through her intentions. He’d expected a little more waged war, and maybe hoped for it in some goading, enticing measure. “I would love to hear it,” he responded in kind, already conforming to several mounds of dirt; head tilting to listen as her limbs seemed to be threading through the water.
A ploy to disengage with impending mud? Could’ve been – he wouldn’t put it past her. Figuring it was worth a try, if only to be a juvenile irritant, he launched the first wave of soft pebbles and loam, sending it outwards in earthen machinations range.
A ploy to disengage with impending mud? Could’ve been – he wouldn’t put it past her. Figuring it was worth a try, if only to be a juvenile irritant, he launched the first wave of soft pebbles and loam, sending it outwards in earthen machinations range.
the ressurected sword
