make way | daily jobs

[mars.]

One may find it rather evident as to which side Dylluan fell.

Simple the work he tended to upon a more daily basis, though he could not be readily deemed absent when it became necessary to handle more strenuous work, he simply did not care to seek it out. Offered nothing as the passage of newly crowned Dragon bypassed his chosen placement, before spread the rough ore as of yet untreated, though soon enough were they swept once more into bag. No love did he bare for the tasks often deemed befitting this particular occurrence, much dirty and low as skirted the more unpleasant, yet tiresome had grown reacted the same simple tasks.

When no other seemed like to act as first recipient through those gathered did he move, from his path shouldered a few out of the way, discoloured teeth bared when any dared protest. "Give me your worst." May well unnecessary the comment he voiced once he had separated from the onlookers, to Brymstone looking with expectation.

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such a daring disguise, look me dead in the eyes and cry when every stare has you gasping for air. won't you tell me why you're here, there's blood in the bag leaking love isn't fair, you can crawl back from where you came because I don't hear you the same

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