Luneshale Pass Paws Up, Square Up, Baby Let's go

haloed in brilliant gold, safiya resembles the seraphims of his homeland as soto comes across her. he marvels how she's grown these last months - her limbs longer, face more angular and full.

she is a woman now, he thinks to himself with a strange species of dread. she had passed the month marker of his own daughter some weeks back, and seeing her stretching against the sun fills soto with a violent sense of sorrow.

safiya, he greets, chasing away the ghoulish sadness with a glimmering grin. que pasa?