everything I let go
There was a long sigh after Iskra’s answer, as if he’d expected it and heard it many times, but had been hoping someone else would have a different response. But then his eyes narrowed, head tilting upwards in a shrewd caricature, trying to parse if Iskra was deceiving him or not. “Huh,” he managed, still uncertain, threatening a pout. “Is it better than magic?”
Knowledge of other people’s parents and heritage left him more curious than spiteful over prior replies though, and while he chucked another few pine needle strips into his bag, he listened. Honoring one’s deceased relatives sounded nice, even if it came with the caveat of losing those people; loss wasn’t something he’d experienced yet, and the very notion of it hadn’t stuck its thorn into his sides. He knew what it meant – he knew the journeys some had come simply to get here, and didn’t long for such melancholic outcomes. “Oh,” he managed to summarize, feeling like he’d tread on something he shouldn’t have. Choosing not to dig further on the death and demise portion, he floated and bobbled lightly on other parameters, finally letting Orsino down to the ground again as acorns flooded into his bag. “Can they do other things too – your ax and shield?”
And by then there were other ideas afloat, so while the fox chased one stray acorn around, delighted to bat it in the snow within his newfound freedom, they turned towards the magical greenhouse. He hadn’t imagined an assortment of vegetables for noses, but now on the mere notions, his little whims began to concoct gigantic frameworks or skinnier proportions. “Oooh, or we can get potatoes for some big ones! Or green beans!”
Knowledge of other people’s parents and heritage left him more curious than spiteful over prior replies though, and while he chucked another few pine needle strips into his bag, he listened. Honoring one’s deceased relatives sounded nice, even if it came with the caveat of losing those people; loss wasn’t something he’d experienced yet, and the very notion of it hadn’t stuck its thorn into his sides. He knew what it meant – he knew the journeys some had come simply to get here, and didn’t long for such melancholic outcomes. “Oh,” he managed to summarize, feeling like he’d tread on something he shouldn’t have. Choosing not to dig further on the death and demise portion, he floated and bobbled lightly on other parameters, finally letting Orsino down to the ground again as acorns flooded into his bag. “Can they do other things too – your ax and shield?”
And by then there were other ideas afloat, so while the fox chased one stray acorn around, delighted to bat it in the snow within his newfound freedom, they turned towards the magical greenhouse. He hadn’t imagined an assortment of vegetables for noses, but now on the mere notions, his little whims began to concoct gigantic frameworks or skinnier proportions. “Oooh, or we can get potatoes for some big ones! Or green beans!”
Erebos
has claw marks on it
