the hailstorm
Had they the breath, it would have been fogging the air before them as they descend ever deeper into the black. The stillness of the world around them is fathomless, interrupted only by the appearance of another puzzle. Neron examines it for a few moments, perturbed by the content of it, but smirking as he thinks he has figured it out. Constellations and cuisine. Who would have thought this would be lurking so far beneath their feet in the Fangs?
"Let me try," he suggests, moving forward to trace his finger over the spaces, spelling out R A M E N. "It's a little silly. Hopefully it doesn't turn me into food if it's wrong." He scoffs, standing back again to see what happens and glancing around the group.
"Let me try," he suggests, moving forward to trace his finger over the spaces, spelling out R A M E N. "It's a little silly. Hopefully it doesn't turn me into food if it's wrong." He scoffs, standing back again to see what happens and glancing around the group.
