Sawtooth Spire i'm bound by these choices so hard to make
i'm defeated and i gladly wear the crown
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Stag's breath remained held as he waited for Wylla to resurface. A small (big, really) part of him worried she might turn him away after that - but luckily for the boy, Wylla had put aside Stag's unwitting insult and released the tiny hounds.

"I'm sorry I left," He mumbled awkwardly, while he waited for Wylla's features to appear from the murkgloom, anything at all to signify she was not plotting killing him then and there. Somewhere on the cavefloor he heard the little clink-clink of rapid feet -- "It was crowded." He frowled, ears falling to his side only to lift immediately as a tiny figure speared through the shadows, lit by the generous sun.

Clownfeet grinned widely, his tail thumping against his command -- for it was none other than the little upstart that had nearly cost him his life that One Day. Did she even know she was about to make a Hawk-sized Happy Meal if it wasn't for Stag? Probably not. Stag had no visions of heroism or grandeur either - he had only been acting on impulse - but as the cavalry came thundering towards him he flinched ever so slightly, expecting milkteeth to assail his limbs or worse..

Oh, it was way worse. Her little nose, cold as a clown's soul or witch's tits, arced up and down his leg to the point he was yanking his limbs from the offending frost-tip, back and forth as she tottered from leg to leg to suddenly sternum and --

"YEEEeee," Out came the most unmanly noise the boy had ever made. Stag winced, doing the opposite of a belly tuck and nearly snapping his spine in half as he arched it like a startled cat. Ever so gingerly he danced around Phaedra's effusive greeting, juggling between wanting to say hi and very much not wanting to have his bits frostbitten off. "Cold." He grinned guiltily, hoping Wylla had seen none of that overtly-mannish display. Deciding he could do very little to stay the inevitable of cold pressed to his skin, Stag leapt a few feet away in a nimble show of athleticism and then sunk his belly to the ground immediately, where it could not be probed by nosy nellies and their frigid noses.
and it brings me to you, but i won't just past through
i'm not asking for a storm.  
Messages In This Thread
i'm bound by these choices so hard to make - by Stag - April 11, 2020, 12:43 PM
RE: i'm bound by these choices so hard to make - by Stag - April 19, 2020, 12:50 PM