Northstar Vale the tones of your flesh i tempered with pandyssian chalk

oof sorry this is short & crappy.

theif of my heart.

melkor ponders it silently for a moment; drinking her in with his studious gaze. ❝a stolen jewel that i will treasure,❞ the warlord eventually murmurs; sincere. his ears cup forth as she speaks of her language, claiming it not to be a succinct. ❝it sounds plenty succinct to me.❞ melkor offers her in a contemplative rumble; admittedly though, he didn't have lotte's ear for such things. his mother'd had an incredibly gift that has gone to waste upon melkor who wouldn't fancy himself a bard at all. instead, he appears to have taken mostly after arturo in all but appearance.