.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
02-11-2015, 08:40 PM
We build cathedrals to our pain
Establish monuments to attain It was all a joke. This running off to warn everyone of the coming flood, gathering water, and now, going to pull up plants to sustain their lives... All when the God could do it his fucking self. Inaudible, unpleased grumbles slipped from the brindle's mouth which had become a permanent scowl since the moment everything had begun. He simply could not fathom why any of it mattered, not when Earth himself could materialize whatever the hell he wanted, whenever the hell he wanted. It seemed a grievous misuse of time, but if doing as the gargantuan stallion said meant this could all be over sooner, Crowley would dig up every single plant he found and drag Histe along with him. The mare herself was an enigma, for while she bore no proud horns and was not tainted by the abomination of wings, she was... bearable, and unlike any equine he had yet to meet, perhaps the only thus far he hadn't been tempted to try and rip apart. But perhaps the most annoying thing about her was that in speaking to her... she really was no different than than one with horns. "I hope the bastard's satisfied with a weed," the stallion mused as he took admirable care in digging up a singular dandelion, pushing his prior thoughts abruptly aside, "They are but unloved flowers." "Talk talk talk" @[Histe] Freedom from all of the scars and the sins
Lest we drown in the darkness within |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
