Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
It is exceedingly strange to see rain in Halo; Lyra would have expected any precipitation to turn to snow or sleet rather than these bitterly cold droplets of water. She thinks that perhaps coming here during this season was a mistake, but she's here now, so whether it was a good idea to come or not is neither here nor there. Fortunately, her Newfoundland shift will provide sufficient warmth and ward off the worst of the wet, too.
So she bounds happily down the streets of Snowcloak, humming a jaunty little tune to herself that she's unaware carries through the Attuned bond for any around to hear. And when she comes to the market square, she spies a familiar hellhound weaving through the crowds. Deimos! she called, trotting past a couple rushing for cover through the rain. Hey. Had any more search and rescue missions lately? That last one went well. I was so glad.
So she bounds happily down the streets of Snowcloak, humming a jaunty little tune to herself that she's unaware carries through the Attuned bond for any around to hear. And when she comes to the market square, she spies a familiar hellhound weaving through the crowds. Deimos! she called, trotting past a couple rushing for cover through the rain. Hey. Had any more search and rescue missions lately? That last one went well. I was so glad.
Passed down like folk songs
The love lasts so long
The love lasts so long
Lyra
