A heart-shaped tree standing in between human nature, and the nature we see
Remarkably, Ludo's spinning of the box does seem to be yielding results. Which seems to be good for the herald's attitude, maybe, as the threatened tantrum does not arrive, letting Koa breathe a sigh of relief.
Still wary, the Dragoon produces his handwraps for Ludo to examine: dark red lengths of semi-elastic fabric, neatly rolled and clearly well-maintained, if also well-used. "They're to protect my hands in fights," he explains, skeptical that the capricious god truly cares but also unsure what else to do. "I'm a boxer - but lately with training I've been so tired, I get hurt more. So I was thinking, maybe landing hits could give me back some energy? Like, siphon health or soul or something." He shrugs, looking at the floating rags with a lopsided smile. "Seemed like your kind of thing."
Still wary, the Dragoon produces his handwraps for Ludo to examine: dark red lengths of semi-elastic fabric, neatly rolled and clearly well-maintained, if also well-used. "They're to protect my hands in fights," he explains, skeptical that the capricious god truly cares but also unsure what else to do. "I'm a boxer - but lately with training I've been so tired, I get hurt more. So I was thinking, maybe landing hits could give me back some energy? Like, siphon health or soul or something." He shrugs, looking at the floating rags with a lopsided smile. "Seemed like your kind of thing."
Koa
