Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
"Oh yes," she told him with a little grin, eyebrows bouncing. "You catch them, wrestle them, flip 'em upside down and cut the wool off with really sharp scissors. Then you let them go, and if they're anything like normal sheep, it'll grow right back in about half a year. It's dirty, messy, backbreaking work, but can be worth it for the end product. I grew up on a sheep farm. I can show you how it's done, if you want." Or you know, round up some farmers to do it while Danta watched, because she had a suspicion that he would be balking at the very idea of breaking a sweat. Getting tired of my own words
Huffing as she sat up a bit better, Maea nodded with a quiet breath of laughter at Kiada's antics. "Well, according to Talyson, the Messenger? they tested a variety of magic on some orb that Safrin stole from the Family. Turns out that ice and earth magic does nothing, most other elements do the same kind of harm they would to anything, but what really worked the best is air and gravity." Watching him stand and throw the wads of wool into the wind, she cocked her head in curiosity. "Can we do any of that? I know we have fire, and can disintegrate certain materials... what else can we do?" There was no end to the things she didn't know about the ancient race, not least of which were their raw potential for magic. How deep did the well go?
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
