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Suddenly, the air was different, and in an instant, the attention of the unicorns was directed to the God of the Spark. Like the rest, Crowley turned and approached the God, his yellow eyes drinking in his appearance. He was of normal stature, shorter than himself, but he knew without a doubt that the deity could wipe him out without a second thought. The brindle came to a halt once he had reached the same point as the others, standing not far from the rest. Korra's aggitation was clear to see, and unable to help himself, he chuckled inwardly. It was good to see that the mare had not found death in the Grove, but he wouldn't dare bring it up right now. His attention quickly returned to the God standing before them, listening to his question, and the answers from his brethern. He had not been in Helovia during the invasion of The Edge, but he had heard plenty of it from those that resided here. At current, Crowley saw no reason for himself to speak. Land, so long as it was not this barren winterland, seemed one of the best things they could have. They needed an upperhand, so to speak, against the Moon Goddess and the enemies they had forged throughout Helovia. But Psyche was right; whatever they were given, they had to weight it's value and the consequences that would come with it. |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
