LOREN
Loren continued staring at Oliver, the summoner’s expression troubled. Almost gently, but firmly, he pulled his hand from the other man’s grasp. "You're wrong." The words came out flatly, with no room for disagreement. However, the Launceleyn's eyes conveyed just how exhausted he was by this conversation.
Sighing, he padded forward. "You can do whatever you want with the tapestries." Shifting into a goose, he dipped his left wing in red and his right in blue. Reaching out to the canvas, he swiped both of them across it, leaving criss-crossing smears.
Stepping back, he shifted back to human. Lifting a brush, he signed his name in black as small as he possibly could in the bottom right corner. Creating a cloth, he began wiping the paint from his body. "Good?"
Sighing, he padded forward. "You can do whatever you want with the tapestries." Shifting into a goose, he dipped his left wing in red and his right in blue. Reaching out to the canvas, he swiped both of them across it, leaving criss-crossing smears.
Stepping back, he shifted back to human. Lifting a brush, he signed his name in black as small as he possibly could in the bottom right corner. Creating a cloth, he began wiping the paint from his body. "Good?"
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
