Ankyra Sound i keep on dancing through the quicksand

unknown to sobeille, the images conjured by treepie’s vivid imagination fit no loa — instead, they danced along the periphery of lovecraftian horror, perhaps better suited for the eternal depths than a limiting forest.

spirits. sobeille provided, once again struck by the worlds of difference in their culture. de moontribe would liken dem to spiritual ancestors, mebbe. some are good, some are bad — dis forest is loved by a powerful one.

but it wasn’t marinette sobeille thought of as her yellow gaze trailed along the silvery veil. i don’t know what to name dem. she abruptly changed topic, shocked even by her own vulnerable admission.