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Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies The bright lights ahead are a abhorrent, fearsome sight that ceases the beast's movements completely, rendering him stuck where he stood. And that forsaken jingling that grated on his ears... His barrel expands and contracts harshly as he looks upon it and the countless bodies that surround it, undoubtedly plotting his demise and piecing together a plan to bring him down for good. What the tree and the bright, colorful lights have to do with it all, he knows not, only that it is something terrible. But Talbot knows this is not true; amongst the group are old friends, family even, such as Rhiannon whom the hound wishes only to make amends with considering their last meeting at the beach. He even spies d'Artagnan within the group, his own hound at his side, who Talbot remembers fondly romping about and terrorizing the Basin with when they were only pups. A small whine escapes the helldog's throat, but he knows it would be foolish to leave his master's side; he is Crowley's only comfort, the only one who can even attempt to battle the terrors ravaging his cursed mind. "I'll destroy them all," the horned stallion hissed beneath his breath to none other than himself, words tainted with fear and paranoia as molten eyes jumped from one body to the next, assuring that none even dared glance in his direction, "All of them. Tear out their intestines and strangle them with them... If they think they can get me..." "Talk talk talk" [For curse;; distorted reality] I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
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The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
