08-19-2020, 03:57 PM
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[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2e8b57; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]I'LL C[color=#36829c]OME BACK WHEN YOU CALL ME
Since the tremors left her with a broken hind leg, the petite deer-fox didn't wander as far. It wasn't as safe. Or easy. She'd only gone out to gather some plants from the desert when she thought she... Felt something. In the ground. Brief, the panicked memory of the vibrations before... Until she saw a fuzzy light in the distance, hazel hues squinting in futile attempts to make the image clearer.
Even a broken leg couldn't get in the way of the druid's boundless curiosity. Just. Slow her down a little.
The Fleshweaver trotted towards the beacon, wobbling often in her steps, ears sharply perked in uncertainty. The wings resting on her sides shuffled uncomfortably.
Maybe she should've grabbed a clanmate. Her father. A bit late now. In.... Seven. Hold. Four... Out... Eight. Okay. Her chest squeezed but she was breathing. And the sight was... Amazing
She'd never seen a tree so large! Much less pillars with glowing rocks. She furrowed her brow. So immersed in the oddity she jumped at the sound of another's voice. Quick to inhale and recognize the smell of the swamp. No. No.
She shouldn't have gone out alone. Ears flattened, the fae pressed close to the pillar with the red stone, trembling against the memories of flames and ash and smoke.
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[/td][/tr][/table]Even a broken leg couldn't get in the way of the druid's boundless curiosity. Just. Slow her down a little.
The Fleshweaver trotted towards the beacon, wobbling often in her steps, ears sharply perked in uncertainty. The wings resting on her sides shuffled uncomfortably.
Maybe she should've grabbed a clanmate. Her father. A bit late now. In.... Seven. Hold. Four... Out... Eight. Okay. Her chest squeezed but she was breathing. And the sight was... Amazing
She'd never seen a tree so large! Much less pillars with glowing rocks. She furrowed her brow. So immersed in the oddity she jumped at the sound of another's voice. Quick to inhale and recognize the smell of the swamp. No. No.
She shouldn't have gone out alone. Ears flattened, the fae pressed close to the pillar with the red stone, trembling against the memories of flames and ash and smoke.
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© MADI
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AINE CHARLOTTE NÍ BROIN - THE PITT - 10 MOONS - RED DEER-FOX
[div style="font-size: 12px; padding-top: 175px; padding-right: 30px; padding-left: 5px; color: white; text-align: left; text-transform: uppercase"]I come & scour
desert flower
the land for the