AESIOR OPHELES
✯ — got spirits in my head and they won't go
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The question came to him, his gaze picking up from where it had landed upon ivory fur. Wasting their supplies? Humor trickled through him as he watched the trembling jaw. Words were fine and all, but actions meant the most. Shaking his head as he made contact with lavender orbs, nodding as he heard Fraggle's words. Vincent was a part of the golden eye, the people and place he called home. It didn't matter if he didn't personally know him - that could always be remedied with time
Pulling away dyed cotton, he would gently sniff at the wound, investigating the wound with his nose and eyes. It should heal alright, no matter how sore it was. Away would he turn once more, retrieving a small glass bottle. Within it was a sort of balm, one he would carefully attempt to spread across the cut. It was meant to help hold it together and keep out an infection. He would rummage through his bag for a moment before producing a strip of fabric to lie about his paw.
Pulling away dyed cotton, he would gently sniff at the wound, investigating the wound with his nose and eyes. It should heal alright, no matter how sore it was. Away would he turn once more, retrieving a small glass bottle. Within it was a sort of balm, one he would carefully attempt to spread across the cut. It was meant to help hold it together and keep out an infection. He would rummage through his bag for a moment before producing a strip of fabric to lie about his paw.
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THE FLOWER BURNS