Thread:Crowsoul50/@comment-33229352-20190408050855

sixth time's the charm!

Ishmael paced outside of the old mansion in his domain, his steps slow and deliberate. His arms were crossed firmly across his chest as he stared blankly at the ground before him, lost in thought. The expression on the peace deity's face was not one that was usually seen on him-- he was furious. His peace circle flickered erratically beneath his bare feet. but it didn't seem to be doing much to quell his anger, or perhaps it was working and what was seen was merely a watered down version of his true emotion. The deity's discontent was also evident in the plants that grew wildly near his footfalls, thick, thorny briers that curled and moved like snakes. Occasionally his gaze would lift to focus on the mansion. More specifically, he was looking at the great oaken doors that were broken off their hinges, splintered and warped beyond repair. They lay in the dilapidated foyer of the mansion. Obviously, something or someone had forced its way in.

Nearby, Huck and Milo watched Ishmael move. Milo looked tired, dark circles under eyes that were red from crying. He sat atop one of Huck's giant forepaws and was smoothing his hands over the Bushbeast's bark. though it was unclear whether or not he was doing it to comfort himself or his friend.

Huck didn't look too good. The foliage all over his body was dry and brown, and many leaves were already scattered on the ground nearby his prone body. His great head rested on top of his other leg. The Bushbeast's eyes were dim and flickering, like a light bulb about to go out. Still, he lifted his head and looked directly at you. As he moved, more leaves fell from his body.

Milo followed his friend's gaze until he saw you. He didn't say a word to acknowledge you, just held a finger to his lips to tell you to keep your voice down.

tea? tea.  