Vayle stretched. His dog barked at him. Waake uuuuup. it slowly whispered into his mind. Vayle growled and got up. The first thing he did was take off the rabbit slippers he always slept in- wizards could not look silly, he thought. He stuffed the slippers under his bed and reached for his bracelet. Silly. You never take that bracelet off anymore. his familiar whispered. Vayle looked at his wrist. Sure enough, there the bracelet he always wore was. He sighed and shook his head. His memory was still foggy from sleep. His vision cleared. The mage headed outside and beat his feathered wings, slowly gliding towards the place his instincts brought his wings to. Sure enough, there were dragons gathered around the den he glided over. Whose house was it? He'd remember later. He landed softly, shook the glowing orb of light that hovered around his head away, and shoved past the others. Inside the room, the dragons were gathered around a young Nocturne- wasn't her name Visia? - and a dead dragon. Vayle sighed. Someone had died. "Well, sorry to whoever died." he said. He bowed, as he always did when someone died, and sat down. He was uncomfortable- he didn't like crowds. However, he always paid his respects to the dead, so he simply shifted slightly further away from the crowd and sat there shivering in the cold, his feathers doing nothing to keep him from being cold. His dog didn't show up either to help him keep warm- the dog was scared of blood. Vayle sighed again and shifted around in the snow. At least he wouldn't need coffee- the cold was more than enough to keep him awake...
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Vayle stretched. His dog barked at him. Waake uuuuup. it slowly whispered into his mind. Vayle growled and got up. The first thing he did was take off the rabbit slippers he always slept in- wizards could not look silly, he thought. He stuffed the slippers under his bed and reached for his bracelet. Silly. You never take that bracelet off anymore. his familiar whispered. Vayle looked at his wrist. Sure enough, there the bracelet he always wore was. He sighed and shook his head. His memory was still foggy from sleep. His vision cleared. The mage headed outside and beat his feathered wings, slowly gliding towards the place his instincts brought his wings to. Sure enough, there were dragons gathered around the den he glided over. Whose house was it? He'd remember later. He landed softly, shook the glowing orb of light that hovered around his head away, and shoved past the others. Inside the room, the dragons were gathered around a young Nocturne- wasn't her name Visia? - and a dead dragon. Vayle sighed. Someone had died. "Well, sorry to whoever died." he said. He bowed, as he always did when someone died, and sat down. He was uncomfortable- he didn't like crowds. However, he always paid his respects to the dead, so he simply shifted slightly further away from the crowd and sat there shivering in the cold, his feathers doing nothing to keep him from being cold. His dog didn't show up either to help him keep warm- the dog was scared of blood. Vayle sighed again and shifted around in the snow. At least he wouldn't need coffee- the cold was more than enough to keep him awake...
Not many things would make Visia cry. She'd cracked countless bones in her time, lost countless races, watched her mother descend more and more into madness over time without a single tear in her eyes. But the loss of her sister had her shaky, a sobbing mess with tears all over her face. Not even bothering to talk, she moved to the side to let Orias take a look at her. She had grown to learn that the "Warrior" and the "Archer" would also double as healers after spending some time in their den after a particularly harsh landing. She kept holding her sister's hand as the tundra examined the wound, not willing to let go just yet.
And in comes their leader talking about how they should "dispose of the body."
They're going to take her away. She hissed instictively, pushing Orias to the side as she covered the body once again. No, she didn't want tea with someone who wanted to get rid of her. She had given her condolences with a nonchalant attitude -as if she wanted to move on - as if Melinoe's death was no more than a leak in clan's water supply. Making her way to her kettle - as if she owned the house now.
If she had the words to do so, she would argue. The den got more and more crowded as time passed, more and more dragons touching her stuff, standing around in her den - things that they wouldn't do if she was... Still there. She was upset, and she wanted no one to be around her, no one but Mel. She wanted to yell at them to stop touching her stuff, to yell at them to leave, but instead she just held her claw tighter.
She stayed silent as the tourist approached, telling her about how Mel was "in a better place now" What did she take her for, a hatchling? What did she know about afterlife anyway?
And yet, she stayed quiet, barely nodding at her to keep herself from snapping at the poor tourist. She was just trying to be nice, Visia knew that, but her choice of words still irritated her.
And maybe that was why she appreciated the silent expression of the archer. Trying to stop her crying - at least, enough to let her talk - Visia shut her eyes, wiping them off with one claw. She refused to look at Mel's wounds, but looking at her face hurt just as much.
The familiar smell of tea leaves filled the room and as much as Visia hated the idea -because it was Flasha's idea first- she couldn't deny the calming effect. There was something that felt familiar with the old bard. She reminded her of a certain older dragon, a mother figure who wasn't quite her mother, so she didn't mind her being around, touching her stuff all that much.
And then, with the arrival of the mage, she was irritated again. He hadn't even bothered to learn her name! It bothered her, it bothered her that some of her clanmates treated death - her death of all things, - like it was nothing more than a slight injury. She let out a frustrated sob, glaring at everyone in her sight.
And in comes their leader talking about how they should "dispose of the body."
They're going to take her away. She hissed instictively, pushing Orias to the side as she covered the body once again. No, she didn't want tea with someone who wanted to get rid of her. She had given her condolences with a nonchalant attitude -as if she wanted to move on - as if Melinoe's death was no more than a leak in clan's water supply. Making her way to her kettle - as if she owned the house now.
If she had the words to do so, she would argue. The den got more and more crowded as time passed, more and more dragons touching her stuff, standing around in her den - things that they wouldn't do if she was... Still there. She was upset, and she wanted no one to be around her, no one but Mel. She wanted to yell at them to stop touching her stuff, to yell at them to leave, but instead she just held her claw tighter.
She stayed silent as the tourist approached, telling her about how Mel was "in a better place now" What did she take her for, a hatchling? What did she know about afterlife anyway?
And yet, she stayed quiet, barely nodding at her to keep herself from snapping at the poor tourist. She was just trying to be nice, Visia knew that, but her choice of words still irritated her.
And maybe that was why she appreciated the silent expression of the archer. Trying to stop her crying - at least, enough to let her talk - Visia shut her eyes, wiping them off with one claw. She refused to look at Mel's wounds, but looking at her face hurt just as much.
The familiar smell of tea leaves filled the room and as much as Visia hated the idea -because it was Flasha's idea first- she couldn't deny the calming effect. There was something that felt familiar with the old bard. She reminded her of a certain older dragon, a mother figure who wasn't quite her mother, so she didn't mind her being around, touching her stuff all that much.
And then, with the arrival of the mage, she was irritated again. He hadn't even bothered to learn her name! It bothered her, it bothered her that some of her clanmates treated death - her death of all things, - like it was nothing more than a slight injury. She let out a frustrated sob, glaring at everyone in her sight.
Not many things would make Visia cry. She'd cracked countless bones in her time, lost countless races, watched her mother descend more and more into madness over time without a single tear in her eyes. But the loss of her sister had her shaky, a sobbing mess with tears all over her face. Not even bothering to talk, she moved to the side to let Orias take a look at her. She had grown to learn that the "Warrior" and the "Archer" would also double as healers after spending some time in their den after a particularly harsh landing. She kept holding her sister's hand as the tundra examined the wound, not willing to let go just yet.
And in comes their leader talking about how they should "dispose of the body."
They're going to take her away. She hissed instictively, pushing Orias to the side as she covered the body once again. No, she didn't want tea with someone who wanted to get rid of her. She had given her condolences with a nonchalant attitude -as if she wanted to move on - as if Melinoe's death was no more than a leak in clan's water supply. Making her way to her kettle - as if she owned the house now.
If she had the words to do so, she would argue. The den got more and more crowded as time passed, more and more dragons touching her stuff, standing around in her den - things that they wouldn't do if she was... Still there. She was upset, and she wanted no one to be around her, no one but Mel. She wanted to yell at them to stop touching her stuff, to yell at them to leave, but instead she just held her claw tighter.
She stayed silent as the tourist approached, telling her about how Mel was "in a better place now" What did she take her for, a hatchling? What did she know about afterlife anyway?
And yet, she stayed quiet, barely nodding at her to keep herself from snapping at the poor tourist. She was just trying to be nice, Visia knew that, but her choice of words still irritated her.
And maybe that was why she appreciated the silent expression of the archer. Trying to stop her crying - at least, enough to let her talk - Visia shut her eyes, wiping them off with one claw. She refused to look at Mel's wounds, but looking at her face hurt just as much.
The familiar smell of tea leaves filled the room and as much as Visia hated the idea -because it was Flasha's idea first- she couldn't deny the calming effect. There was something that felt familiar with the old bard. She reminded her of a certain older dragon, a mother figure who wasn't quite her mother, so she didn't mind her being around, touching her stuff all that much.
And then, with the arrival of the mage, she was irritated again. He hadn't even bothered to learn her name! It bothered her, it bothered her that some of her clanmates treated death - her death of all things, - like it was nothing more than a slight injury. She let out a frustrated sob, glaring at everyone in her sight.
And in comes their leader talking about how they should "dispose of the body."
They're going to take her away. She hissed instictively, pushing Orias to the side as she covered the body once again. No, she didn't want tea with someone who wanted to get rid of her. She had given her condolences with a nonchalant attitude -as if she wanted to move on - as if Melinoe's death was no more than a leak in clan's water supply. Making her way to her kettle - as if she owned the house now.
If she had the words to do so, she would argue. The den got more and more crowded as time passed, more and more dragons touching her stuff, standing around in her den - things that they wouldn't do if she was... Still there. She was upset, and she wanted no one to be around her, no one but Mel. She wanted to yell at them to stop touching her stuff, to yell at them to leave, but instead she just held her claw tighter.
She stayed silent as the tourist approached, telling her about how Mel was "in a better place now" What did she take her for, a hatchling? What did she know about afterlife anyway?
And yet, she stayed quiet, barely nodding at her to keep herself from snapping at the poor tourist. She was just trying to be nice, Visia knew that, but her choice of words still irritated her.
And maybe that was why she appreciated the silent expression of the archer. Trying to stop her crying - at least, enough to let her talk - Visia shut her eyes, wiping them off with one claw. She refused to look at Mel's wounds, but looking at her face hurt just as much.
The familiar smell of tea leaves filled the room and as much as Visia hated the idea -because it was Flasha's idea first- she couldn't deny the calming effect. There was something that felt familiar with the old bard. She reminded her of a certain older dragon, a mother figure who wasn't quite her mother, so she didn't mind her being around, touching her stuff all that much.
And then, with the arrival of the mage, she was irritated again. He hadn't even bothered to learn her name! It bothered her, it bothered her that some of her clanmates treated death - her death of all things, - like it was nothing more than a slight injury. She let out a frustrated sob, glaring at everyone in her sight.
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Vayle got the distinct feeling that some of Visia's anger was directed at him. He looked up. Was it because he had forgotten their names? He looked around. The Nocturne was glaring at everyone. Vayle stepped to the door and, head low to the ground, said meekly "I'm really sorry for your loss!" Then he turned and ran, huddling up under the blankets in his room. Why did he have to say that? He wasn't normally nice! Or what others called nice! He got out a tattered sketchbook and a feather pen made from one of his own feathers and sketched a picture of the two dragons, the Nocturne and the Bogsneak, together. When he was done, it was as if they were really alive. He rested his head on the sketchpad and fell asleep, ignoring his dog's hungry whines. He'd feed the strange creature later- it was a strange creature and never seemed to eat anyways, although it was happier after he set out food. It never set the thing in its mouth down, even to eat and sleep...
Vayle drifted into sleep.
(Vayle's too confused to vote for anyone)
Vayle drifted into sleep.
(Vayle's too confused to vote for anyone)
Vayle got the distinct feeling that some of Visia's anger was directed at him. He looked up. Was it because he had forgotten their names? He looked around. The Nocturne was glaring at everyone. Vayle stepped to the door and, head low to the ground, said meekly "I'm really sorry for your loss!" Then he turned and ran, huddling up under the blankets in his room. Why did he have to say that? He wasn't normally nice! Or what others called nice! He got out a tattered sketchbook and a feather pen made from one of his own feathers and sketched a picture of the two dragons, the Nocturne and the Bogsneak, together. When he was done, it was as if they were really alive. He rested his head on the sketchpad and fell asleep, ignoring his dog's hungry whines. He'd feed the strange creature later- it was a strange creature and never seemed to eat anyways, although it was happier after he set out food. It never set the thing in its mouth down, even to eat and sleep...
Vayle drifted into sleep.
(Vayle's too confused to vote for anyone)
Vayle drifted into sleep.
(Vayle's too confused to vote for anyone)
Freude raised an eyebrow at the sight of the victim's den.
The Spirit Caller was dead? That was interesting.
He pushed through the throng. Visia glared at him as he passed-understandable-with a silent visage.
Melinoe's body looked similar to that of a deer preyed on by a Toridae. Slashes ran across her bulk, staining her scales with caked blood.
Freude considered doing as he always did when he found a corpse in the woods: smell the wounds, pick up the scent of the hunter, examine length of the fatal blow, note down anything that seemed strange.
Then he remembered Visia. The Nocturne was crying, tears running down the greaves between the scales on her face. She and Melinoe had been sisters. Examining the body without her permission would be rude.
Freude mentally debated. Eventually, he took out a piece of parchment, and turned to Visia.
Are you alright?
EDIT: @HolyShipper
The Spirit Caller was dead? That was interesting.
He pushed through the throng. Visia glared at him as he passed-understandable-with a silent visage.
Melinoe's body looked similar to that of a deer preyed on by a Toridae. Slashes ran across her bulk, staining her scales with caked blood.
Freude considered doing as he always did when he found a corpse in the woods: smell the wounds, pick up the scent of the hunter, examine length of the fatal blow, note down anything that seemed strange.
Then he remembered Visia. The Nocturne was crying, tears running down the greaves between the scales on her face. She and Melinoe had been sisters. Examining the body without her permission would be rude.
Freude mentally debated. Eventually, he took out a piece of parchment, and turned to Visia.
Are you alright?
EDIT: @HolyShipper
Freude raised an eyebrow at the sight of the victim's den.
The Spirit Caller was dead? That was interesting.
He pushed through the throng. Visia glared at him as he passed-understandable-with a silent visage.
Melinoe's body looked similar to that of a deer preyed on by a Toridae. Slashes ran across her bulk, staining her scales with caked blood.
Freude considered doing as he always did when he found a corpse in the woods: smell the wounds, pick up the scent of the hunter, examine length of the fatal blow, note down anything that seemed strange.
Then he remembered Visia. The Nocturne was crying, tears running down the greaves between the scales on her face. She and Melinoe had been sisters. Examining the body without her permission would be rude.
Freude mentally debated. Eventually, he took out a piece of parchment, and turned to Visia.
Are you alright?
EDIT: @HolyShipper
The Spirit Caller was dead? That was interesting.
He pushed through the throng. Visia glared at him as he passed-understandable-with a silent visage.
Melinoe's body looked similar to that of a deer preyed on by a Toridae. Slashes ran across her bulk, staining her scales with caked blood.
Freude considered doing as he always did when he found a corpse in the woods: smell the wounds, pick up the scent of the hunter, examine length of the fatal blow, note down anything that seemed strange.
Then he remembered Visia. The Nocturne was crying, tears running down the greaves between the scales on her face. She and Melinoe had been sisters. Examining the body without her permission would be rude.
Freude mentally debated. Eventually, he took out a piece of parchment, and turned to Visia.
Are you alright?
EDIT: @HolyShipper
Remembering that a vote was coming up, Vayle frowned. He pulled out a list of dragons. He crossed out Visia and her sister (luckily he remembered her name), stuck his head out from under the blanket, and thought. Flasha had been kinda blunt, like she didn't care as much as the others. The hunter hunted, but Vayle thought he seemed innocent... Who else could have done it?
(Vayle, after a long time of thought, has decided to vote for Flasha)
(Vayle, after a long time of thought, has decided to vote for Flasha)
Remembering that a vote was coming up, Vayle frowned. He pulled out a list of dragons. He crossed out Visia and her sister (luckily he remembered her name), stuck his head out from under the blanket, and thought. Flasha had been kinda blunt, like she didn't care as much as the others. The hunter hunted, but Vayle thought he seemed innocent... Who else could have done it?
(Vayle, after a long time of thought, has decided to vote for Flasha)
(Vayle, after a long time of thought, has decided to vote for Flasha)
Gemini whimpered at the smell of blood in the clan. He was scared, he may put on a courageous facade around others, but he gets scared of the slightest things sometimes. He decided to go to see Vayle, hoping he could him out. Maybe I'll just vote for whoever Vayle does...I'm not good at this sort of thing... he thought, walking into Vayle's den. The Coatl smiled when he saw the Skydancer's head poking out, and he snuggled by his side. He remembered Melonie, and he started tearing up a bit. Poor Visia...
Gemini whimpered at the smell of blood in the clan. He was scared, he may put on a courageous facade around others, but he gets scared of the slightest things sometimes. He decided to go to see Vayle, hoping he could him out. Maybe I'll just vote for whoever Vayle does...I'm not good at this sort of thing... he thought, walking into Vayle's den. The Coatl smiled when he saw the Skydancer's head poking out, and he snuggled by his side. He remembered Melonie, and he started tearing up a bit. Poor Visia...
She/her
Vayle felt Gemini join him in the bed. He smiled and drew the blanket further around them. Vayle could tell Gemini was scared, and a thought flashed through his mind- How can I make them not be scared? And how can I not be scared when there's a killer about? he wondered. Vayle shivered and retreated further under the blankets. "Who did you vote for?" he asked his mate, setting the notebook and list of suspects on the bedside table. Vayle rolled over and enjoyed the softness of his bed.
Vayle felt Gemini join him in the bed. He smiled and drew the blanket further around them. Vayle could tell Gemini was scared, and a thought flashed through his mind- How can I make them not be scared? And how can I not be scared when there's a killer about? he wondered. Vayle shivered and retreated further under the blankets. "Who did you vote for?" he asked his mate, setting the notebook and list of suspects on the bedside table. Vayle rolled over and enjoyed the softness of his bed.
Not wanting to startle Visia any more than today’s events already had, Sandy was careful to take the kettle away from the fire just before it began screaming. That was not a sound that anyone needed to hear right now. Pouring the tea out of the kettle was a bit of a challenge, as she was a bulky snapper dealing with the utensils of a breed with slimmer fingers, but she didn’t ask for help. She was confident that she could handle this one simple task. Soon enough, the tea was poured into a cup without any incidents, and she busied herself with cleaning out the kettle so that Visia wouldn’t have to worry about it later.
Once the kettle was put away and the tea was no longer scalding, Sandy took the delicate cup and walked back to the entrance of the kitchen. She didn’t take a step further, though; Visia likely already felt crowded, maybe even penned in. The loss of a loved one was not something to be taken lightly, as she knew all too well, so she would give the nocturne some time. If Visia was ready for her tea, she could come see Sandy, and maybe they could even talk a little if she felt into it. But that was up to Visia.
Once the kettle was put away and the tea was no longer scalding, Sandy took the delicate cup and walked back to the entrance of the kitchen. She didn’t take a step further, though; Visia likely already felt crowded, maybe even penned in. The loss of a loved one was not something to be taken lightly, as she knew all too well, so she would give the nocturne some time. If Visia was ready for her tea, she could come see Sandy, and maybe they could even talk a little if she felt into it. But that was up to Visia.
Not wanting to startle Visia any more than today’s events already had, Sandy was careful to take the kettle away from the fire just before it began screaming. That was not a sound that anyone needed to hear right now. Pouring the tea out of the kettle was a bit of a challenge, as she was a bulky snapper dealing with the utensils of a breed with slimmer fingers, but she didn’t ask for help. She was confident that she could handle this one simple task. Soon enough, the tea was poured into a cup without any incidents, and she busied herself with cleaning out the kettle so that Visia wouldn’t have to worry about it later.
Once the kettle was put away and the tea was no longer scalding, Sandy took the delicate cup and walked back to the entrance of the kitchen. She didn’t take a step further, though; Visia likely already felt crowded, maybe even penned in. The loss of a loved one was not something to be taken lightly, as she knew all too well, so she would give the nocturne some time. If Visia was ready for her tea, she could come see Sandy, and maybe they could even talk a little if she felt into it. But that was up to Visia.
Once the kettle was put away and the tea was no longer scalding, Sandy took the delicate cup and walked back to the entrance of the kitchen. She didn’t take a step further, though; Visia likely already felt crowded, maybe even penned in. The loss of a loved one was not something to be taken lightly, as she knew all too well, so she would give the nocturne some time. If Visia was ready for her tea, she could come see Sandy, and maybe they could even talk a little if she felt into it. But that was up to Visia.
Live today. Don’t wait for tomorrow.
Stepping closer to Melinoe's body the tundra frowned, seeing the deep slashes across her scales. She was dead, there was no doubt left in his mind, all hope of somehow healing her was gone, but before he could try and say anything more to Visia the nocturn became hostile, not that he could blame her given the situation. He turned his head to face their leader, instinctively pulling his lips up in a silent snarl at her words and the way Visia reacted. He was not angry, anger was not an emotion he experienced very frequently, but instead it seemed as if he had decided to express some of the anger that seemed to fall from the nocturn beside him in waves.
Grunting he turned away, hiding his face under the brim of his hat before looking to his brother. He did not know how to comfort the nocturn in her grief, he had already done what little he could and now it was time for them to leave; he would not sleep tonight, hopefully he could keep at least his brother safe for now. He didn't really feel the need to sign at Vidarr as he left, assuming the old snapper could help the grieving nocturn more than he, and knowing his brother could read the tension in his shoulders well enough to understand why he was leaving the cramped den.
Outside again the tundra walked with his head down as he made his way through the snow and towards the edge of the clan, towards the woods, towards the place he felt safe. He felt Abbadon shift on his back, letting out a soft mew as she nuzzled against the back of his head. He huffed softly, unsure how to put into words what he felt as he walked, it was like he was empty yet at the same time something bubbled underneath that overwhelming feeling of helplessness that weighed him down as he marched on. It wasn't his sibling that had died, yet he couldn't help but think about if it had been.
Orias votes for Morrison
Grunting he turned away, hiding his face under the brim of his hat before looking to his brother. He did not know how to comfort the nocturn in her grief, he had already done what little he could and now it was time for them to leave; he would not sleep tonight, hopefully he could keep at least his brother safe for now. He didn't really feel the need to sign at Vidarr as he left, assuming the old snapper could help the grieving nocturn more than he, and knowing his brother could read the tension in his shoulders well enough to understand why he was leaving the cramped den.
Outside again the tundra walked with his head down as he made his way through the snow and towards the edge of the clan, towards the woods, towards the place he felt safe. He felt Abbadon shift on his back, letting out a soft mew as she nuzzled against the back of his head. He huffed softly, unsure how to put into words what he felt as he walked, it was like he was empty yet at the same time something bubbled underneath that overwhelming feeling of helplessness that weighed him down as he marched on. It wasn't his sibling that had died, yet he couldn't help but think about if it had been.
Orias votes for Morrison
Stepping closer to Melinoe's body the tundra frowned, seeing the deep slashes across her scales. She was dead, there was no doubt left in his mind, all hope of somehow healing her was gone, but before he could try and say anything more to Visia the nocturn became hostile, not that he could blame her given the situation. He turned his head to face their leader, instinctively pulling his lips up in a silent snarl at her words and the way Visia reacted. He was not angry, anger was not an emotion he experienced very frequently, but instead it seemed as if he had decided to express some of the anger that seemed to fall from the nocturn beside him in waves.
Grunting he turned away, hiding his face under the brim of his hat before looking to his brother. He did not know how to comfort the nocturn in her grief, he had already done what little he could and now it was time for them to leave; he would not sleep tonight, hopefully he could keep at least his brother safe for now. He didn't really feel the need to sign at Vidarr as he left, assuming the old snapper could help the grieving nocturn more than he, and knowing his brother could read the tension in his shoulders well enough to understand why he was leaving the cramped den.
Outside again the tundra walked with his head down as he made his way through the snow and towards the edge of the clan, towards the woods, towards the place he felt safe. He felt Abbadon shift on his back, letting out a soft mew as she nuzzled against the back of his head. He huffed softly, unsure how to put into words what he felt as he walked, it was like he was empty yet at the same time something bubbled underneath that overwhelming feeling of helplessness that weighed him down as he marched on. It wasn't his sibling that had died, yet he couldn't help but think about if it had been.
Orias votes for Morrison
Grunting he turned away, hiding his face under the brim of his hat before looking to his brother. He did not know how to comfort the nocturn in her grief, he had already done what little he could and now it was time for them to leave; he would not sleep tonight, hopefully he could keep at least his brother safe for now. He didn't really feel the need to sign at Vidarr as he left, assuming the old snapper could help the grieving nocturn more than he, and knowing his brother could read the tension in his shoulders well enough to understand why he was leaving the cramped den.
Outside again the tundra walked with his head down as he made his way through the snow and towards the edge of the clan, towards the woods, towards the place he felt safe. He felt Abbadon shift on his back, letting out a soft mew as she nuzzled against the back of his head. He huffed softly, unsure how to put into words what he felt as he walked, it was like he was empty yet at the same time something bubbled underneath that overwhelming feeling of helplessness that weighed him down as he marched on. It wasn't his sibling that had died, yet he couldn't help but think about if it had been.
Orias votes for Morrison
"I haven't voted yet...but I know who I will vote for. I suspect Morrison..." Gemini said, grabbing a piece of paper and writing his name down. He snuggled into Vayle's side. "This is all just too sudden...it's too confusing. Who'd even want to kill Melinoe? She was so nice..." Gemini murmured, shaking his head.
Gemini votes for Morrison.
Gemini votes for Morrison.
"I haven't voted yet...but I know who I will vote for. I suspect Morrison..." Gemini said, grabbing a piece of paper and writing his name down. He snuggled into Vayle's side. "This is all just too sudden...it's too confusing. Who'd even want to kill Melinoe? She was so nice..." Gemini murmured, shaking his head.
Gemini votes for Morrison.
Gemini votes for Morrison.
She/her