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With no pun intended, the appearance of the new God in Frostbreath had sparked a new sort of life into the unicorns calling it home. The God of the Spark had lead them to a new land that was all theirs, and it was with that land that they would flourish, ready to take on whatever was to come next. The Plague was ever so slowly growing to a healthy size, and on this day, Crowley intended to add to that number. The stallion moved with head held high in pride, making his way through the Threshold with only minimal difficulty. With the length of his horns, they had a tendency to catch and rub on the lower hanging branches, but it was more of an annoyance than a hinderance. The scents of many criss-crossed here, leaving Crowley at a loss on which he could follow, or which were even still there. Some had long since left the Threshold, others brand new... But the naked and the winged did not deserve his presence. And then, he caught the sound of a sharp huff, and immediately the demon allowed for a grin to mar his face. He moved onward, and not a moment later did he spot a pale creature, cerulean horn stretching towards the sky. A quick inspection told Crowley that this one was certainly different than the rest, and that alone was enough to pull him in. "Unhappy with the turn of seasons, are we?" His words came, sharp sarcasm caught within them. Then, with a chuckle, he spoke again. "My apologies, darling... The name is Crowley. Do you seek solace?" "Talk Talk Talk" |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
