07-13-2018, 09:22 PM
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SING, GODDESS, OF THE RAGE OF ACHILLES
He supposed that he should have anticipated art to immediately remind him of Hazel. It was a little hard not to when she was standing there, her aura glowing like the sun as he came to a slow stop beside her, letting the bond tug him along silently. But even when she wasn't there, a physical reminder of her talents, she was the first that came to mind, always: he saw paint or stumbled upon charcoal in an old room and thought that he should take them to her, probably. That she might want them, might use them. She was an amazing artist, after all, and her aura was always so... warm and heady, lit up with her happiness when she drew. It was a hard thing to forget.
"I'd imagine shifting from human drawing to dog drawing is difficult," he supplied after a moment, his gaze sliding from Hazel to Caboose. He was an odd one, but Bast didn't really care, as long as he wasn't causing problems. To each their own and all that shit. "How's the rest of... that going?"
"I'd imagine shifting from human drawing to dog drawing is difficult," he supplied after a moment, his gaze sliding from Hazel to Caboose. He was an odd one, but Bast didn't really care, as long as he wasn't causing problems. To each their own and all that shit. "How's the rest of... that going?"
[b]BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS — ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — TAGS
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]