little did I know

ludo Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own Ludo does not respond to her thoughts or her shame, even though they are open as a book to the deity. Its mask does not so much as blink. "I suppose you could always bottle them," it says of her memories. "Though I am not sure how you are meant to learn anything at all without memories to guide you. Are you sure you would not prefer to destroy them altogether? At least that way when you make the same mistakes again, you will not have to bother realising you have done it." Waggling a rag at her, it continues to creep over the line of skulls and bones, like an ominous black mist of raggedy tendrils.