If I hold up hell, will you take the blame?
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
She hasn't been to a shrine in some time, worried that Frey wouldn't appear to them again, knowing that she got lucky the first time. Still, there was a war coming and she needed a better weapon. Her bow had served her well, but she wouldn't just be fighting ursurs and ningos anymore.
Lowering herself to her knees, the Shrike adjusts the fur pelt beneath her knees before setting out the basket she brought; peaches fresh from Torchline and a jar of honey. Shrugging out of her parka, daring to strip down as much as she can stand in the freezing air, Cordelia clears her throat to speak. "Frey, if I may have a moment of your time..." Her voice carries slightly on the wind and she fights back a shiver, cheeks flushed in the cold air.
Lowering herself to her knees, the Shrike adjusts the fur pelt beneath her knees before setting out the basket she brought; peaches fresh from Torchline and a jar of honey. Shrugging out of her parka, daring to strip down as much as she can stand in the freezing air, Cordelia clears her throat to speak. "Frey, if I may have a moment of your time..." Her voice carries slightly on the wind and she fights back a shiver, cheeks flushed in the cold air.
Cordelia
