08-01-2018, 01:20 PM
[size=9pt]The layout of the whole thing makes Moon feel like Lessa is the one true God, like he'll never be more grateful, like he'll be eternally in debt to the Halo, because he's exhausted, again, and those blankets look like genuine clouds. He makes it to the edge before he collapses into a pile of golden fur, heaving a sigh like he's some old lady with arthritis. "Lessa," he manages to say, breathy, "Good-- great idea. Proud of you."
He sits like that for a moment or two, basking in the shared silence, before he spots the hot chocolate and heads straight for it. He's never tried it before, which is probably why he's so desperate to get his paws on it, but Disney has hyped it up enough and so he has high expectations. He takes a sip and it trails down his throat and makes him feel like he doesn't have PTSD from his childhood, like insomnia is just a chain coffee shop and, responsibilities and chores, who? It's fair to say he's happy.
He sits like that for a moment or two, basking in the shared silence, before he spots the hot chocolate and heads straight for it. He's never tried it before, which is probably why he's so desperate to get his paws on it, but Disney has hyped it up enough and so he has high expectations. He takes a sip and it trails down his throat and makes him feel like he doesn't have PTSD from his childhood, like insomnia is just a chain coffee shop and, responsibilities and chores, who? It's fair to say he's happy.
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; height: auto; text-align: center; font-family: ; font-size: 9pt; color: COLOR; letter-spacing: -.5px;"][i][b]and die like a hero going home.[glow=black,2,300]