// we stood, steady as the stars in the woods, so happy-hearted
and the warmth rang true inside these bones, as the old pine fell we sang //
and the warmth rang true inside these bones, as the old pine fell we sang //
Confirmation hits them with Aamu’s ’good’ and it’s certainly a subject Azrael doesn’t plan on pushing any further than they have. So they settle back in the grasses, continuing their sketch, leaving little notes of the story that Aamu had said previously, before they flip to a new page and watch as Aamu reaches for the flowers, settling in beside them.
Their fingers are deft with the charcoal and they quickly sketch up the flower, the question hitting them and giving them pause – making an attempt to smell anything and finds next to nothing. “I haven’t.” They say, tapping the charcoal on their cheek and leaving a dark smudge behind. “I was Made by the Voice. I never really went a time with all the senses that I hear everyone talk about.” They flash Aamu an apologetic smile.
At least this way they didn’t get to know what they were missing, right?
But they pick up their sketch again, ready to write down more tidbits of the story, little sketches of what they imagine the spaces to look like to maybe come back and check them out to see if it’s something they got right once they stumbled upon it. “That sounds… Poetic.” They admit, flashing Aamu a wide fanged grin. “What about the maze?” They ask, leaning forward toward Aamu with excitement in their gaze. “What mystery sits in that one?”
Their fingers are deft with the charcoal and they quickly sketch up the flower, the question hitting them and giving them pause – making an attempt to smell anything and finds next to nothing. “I haven’t.” They say, tapping the charcoal on their cheek and leaving a dark smudge behind. “I was Made by the Voice. I never really went a time with all the senses that I hear everyone talk about.” They flash Aamu an apologetic smile.
At least this way they didn’t get to know what they were missing, right?
But they pick up their sketch again, ready to write down more tidbits of the story, little sketches of what they imagine the spaces to look like to maybe come back and check them out to see if it’s something they got right once they stumbled upon it. “That sounds… Poetic.” They admit, flashing Aamu a wide fanged grin. “What about the maze?” They ask, leaning forward toward Aamu with excitement in their gaze. “What mystery sits in that one?”
Azrael
