KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
For all that he tried to ignore the sneaky animal, he could not. Its presence was a pebble in the shoe, an itch between the shoulders, and like the teenager he was - caught helplessly in this never ending fit of pique - he was unable to just leave it alone. It slipped closer, little by little, and with every inch his jaws tightened a little more. Tension building.
It was clear the fish had caught its interest. The yammering, begging sound annoyed Korbin to no end, too pathetic in a way that went straight to his heart. Soft, yes, he was that, but he didn't want to give in to it. If he started now, who knew where it would end?
"Haul up your own damn fish," he grumped, a touch irrationally, and pulled his catch in close. Sure to keep an eye on the sneak-thief; he was not about to give his work away for free. Looking around, he longed for something to throw at the fox, but fortunately for both of them, all he saw was snow.
It was clear the fish had caught its interest. The yammering, begging sound annoyed Korbin to no end, too pathetic in a way that went straight to his heart. Soft, yes, he was that, but he didn't want to give in to it. If he started now, who knew where it would end?
"Haul up your own damn fish," he grumped, a touch irrationally, and pulled his catch in close. Sure to keep an eye on the sneak-thief; he was not about to give his work away for free. Looking around, he longed for something to throw at the fox, but fortunately for both of them, all he saw was snow.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
