Bearclaw Valley What good to be a god myself, unless things can touch your heart?

He floundered there a moment longer; embedded in a t-pose, feeling the slick quality of the dirt against his groin, which was unpleasant. As he grew too cold for the weather Glaucos tucked his legs back under himself, loafing briefly. He looked around at the dancing drops of water and smiled as light cascaded between them - oftentimes too fast to really see, however, the liminal light transfixed him.

In trying to focus on the nearest array of rainfall he did not notice the approaching shadow until Astara was much closer. Her face came to an abrupt clarity. Shards of color where her eyes sank in to a dark skull. Hastily the boy averts his gaze, feeling a shiver run down his nape and vanish among the chilled muscles of his back.