Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Calling out the moment she spotted the wriggly creature that was Thalassa, Maea cawed in triumph. Allowing herself a moment of smugness, she took off as the new countdown began. Getting tired of my own words
Now, where might she be able to hide? The tiger was too big, and anything that burned was, as showen here, impractical. Her hair was too easily spotted, and technically so was the crow. But at least that was smäller than the rest.
Choosing to dart in among the merchant stalls, she found one selling woolen blankets and piles of fleece; she did her best to tuck herself as deep into the fluff as possible while still able to breathe, and settled in to wait.
----
Maea stays a gorecrow and tries to hide in a pile of wool, among the merchants stalls.
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
