there's a calm before the storm

Koa

There's an art to life's distractions

Koa tilts his hand forward, letting the palmful of collected seeds fall back into their repaired bag. Sitting back onto his heels, he fixes Ever with a thoughtful look. "Frey always struck me as the kind of god who wouldn't care where seeds wound up, as long as they could grow." Happy little accidents, the herald would no doubt call stray weeds or plants, perhaps while wielding a paintbrush and sporting riotous curls.

What is Koa doing down here? Good question The young man shrugs, tanned shoulders bobbing beneath his flamingo-print shirt. "Flora mentioned increased collaboration between Torchline and Stormbreak, so I've been looking into training up their soldiers a bit." He bites the edge of his lower lip, pausing before he adds: "She said she'd talked to Dahlia, actually. About a lot of things. And that your name came up." He wants to hear Ever say it, to give the Aviator a chance to confess. I'm infected, and now I simp for a dictator from space! Surprise!

To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!