03-21-2021, 07:51 PM
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[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2e8b57; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px"]HOW DO YOU RUN FROM Y[color=#5d8e93]OUR OWN MIND?
Spring carried hope. A hope for the weather to warm enough to replant. Regrow. The petite deer-fox certainly didn't trot into the jungle in search of water. Simply checking on any plants that might be toughing it out. That would be the first to truly flourish in the warming temperatures.
Her ears flicked back at a familiar loud curse. Brow raising. Frowning softly as she trotted over... To find Dante scrambling out of a pond. "Dante?" Goodness. "Are you... Are you trying to catch hypothermia?"
However much she disliked the hybrid, the fleshweaver would not wish him hypothermia. That would simply be cruel. Shuffling her feathers, Aine crept closer to the water. Reaching out a hoof to test it herself. Shaking her head. No. She would not recommend.
[/td][/tr][/table]Her ears flicked back at a familiar loud curse. Brow raising. Frowning softly as she trotted over... To find Dante scrambling out of a pond. "Dante?" Goodness. "Are you... Are you trying to catch hypothermia?"
However much she disliked the hybrid, the fleshweaver would not wish him hypothermia. That would simply be cruel. Shuffling her feathers, Aine crept closer to the water. Reaching out a hoof to test it herself. Shaking her head. No. She would not recommend.
© 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