Sun Mote Copse seems every castle is made of sand

gods, this sentinel of the firebirds was stern. arcturus found himself wilting further under her austere glare, noting with shame the way her lips pursed in disapproval. he had earned many looks in his life, but he would never feel at ease when a wolf looked upon him with total and utter disapproval.

where to even start? arcturus hedged a sigh into the cold air, feeling a shudder wrench its way up his spine, through his ribcage, out through his throat and mouth where it took corporeal form in the shape of a drifting cloud of smoky air. "it's hydra -- my sister --" his voice took on a tormented edge, and pain flashed across his blood-rent features. "she's gone mad -- she --" arcturus could not speak of what happened - a cry tore through him as he breathed to life the cruelty he had witnessed: "she killed my brother."