That he might spend days or weeks or years waiting for more incantations to come into his being was a curious thought. Alternatively it could be naught at all – mere minutes – but for children and incessant needs for instant gratification, the notion caused his brows to furrow. Perhaps he’d been spoiled on tales of his father’s magical exploits, and believing he could be much the same. “Huh. Well, that’s really cool.” For Glas especially. “And it could happen to you again one day,” based on the current conversation anyway.
But one would be able to tell he was contemplating deeply, scratching Orsino inattentively, eyes fixated on ground and snow. “I don’t think I mind working for it either, y’know,” volleying back and forth between those greedy, avaricious kernels in his youthful glow, and the potential to actually forge more goals than being better than an Olson. “Maybe it makes it more worth it?”
But one would be able to tell he was contemplating deeply, scratching Orsino inattentively, eyes fixated on ground and snow. “I don’t think I mind working for it either, y’know,” volleying back and forth between those greedy, avaricious kernels in his youthful glow, and the potential to actually forge more goals than being better than an Olson. “Maybe it makes it more worth it?”
erebos
and then we dream so much
