Greatwater Lake If you let them make you, they'll make you papier-mâché

The assumption is fair; Eastwood is not familiar that this is a usual for the ex-prince. The sisters are not, either, although his movements have always been lax, lazy in motion despite his menacing stance. Aldric tilts his head to the right, his chin dips in an uncommitted nod.

Us, too, he says, golden gaze shifting away from the man to the sad lake stretched before them. How the silver warrior wishes he could see it in it's full glory, without the destruction of Razikale at their feet. We lived on an island, the ocean strong, and the waves would tower over our heads when they hit the rocky cliffs just right.

A strength the Toth follower always respected.