Broken Antler Fen i am a fallen angel

roswell leans into her affectionate nuzzles, relishing in them; craving them. they were not ibis' but they were warm and they let him know he was loved, regardless. roswell settles into a sphinx-like position to listen to the story, trying to calm the eagerness he feels bubbling in his chest. he listens to the tale she weaves with baited breath, of a grand adventure and of something booming at twig from behind a waterfall.

roswell draws in a breath, rapidly thinking of the things he knew and what could possibly boom when it spoke. uhm, he draws in a stuttered breath and ends up blurting the first thing that came to his mind: a wabbit! though he isn't sure that something so small could 'boom' when it spoke but it was what he'd blurted and thus what he was going with.

the two kept the story going for a while but after some time, roswell grew tired as his energy waned and opted to curl up and take a nap after a reluctant trudge home.

edited in a conclusion for archival & trade purposes. <3