on the ashes of the dreams they burned

ludo Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own Peeking up, Ludo tilts its mask at the sight of the heavy blanket, and a tendril of fabric sneaks out to grab at it. In seconds the blanket has been wrapped about itself like a cloak, making it look even more plump against the snow as it plays with the offerings. Eventually, of course, it slips them away into the folds of cloth, undoubtedly to hide with the mountains of other things it has been brought over the years, decades, centuries. Settling back, it listens as the large man speaks, mask cocking to the side. "Yes, of course she did," it says simply. "Why wouldn't she?" Kiada is easy. Hotaru, though? It nestles further into scarves and blankets, as if trying to look at something Deimos cannot see. "Not sure about the other one," it says. "Doesn't look like it."