who's weapon is their word ._. joining

[div style="width:100%;padding-right:40px;padding-left:40px;padding-top:40px;padding-bottom:17px;text-transform:uppercase;line-height: 120%;font-size:21pt;color:black;"]Did you want this
Are you consoled

tags ❈ spider-dragon ❈ plant aesthetic elemetal

Wandering. Wandering for days, for weeks; hours, even. Their feet hurt, they were hungry, and frankly, they were starting to think that heeding the call had been a bad idea. They could've lived their life out so easily if they had simply ignored the pained cry in the back of their head (a cry begging and pleading for release, for something, someone, to come to the source's aid). The cry had no direction, and it had teetered off as they tried to find the source. They, quite frankly, were not certain how to feel about it. Partially, their shell was filled with dread. The other half was somewhat glad that the pressure in the back of their head had come to a stop.

(Was the cry to blame for the crack that ran down the shell that was their mask, their face? Or had they fallen and somehow forgotten? Had they been hatched with their body already cracking, those few months ago? They had no answers, and they were uncertain which of their current answers was more comforting.)

The buggy dragon's mandibles clicked and chittered as they perked their head up, antennae taking in the nice breeze. It was a bit chillier here than they'd like, but it'd be fine. Their cloak kept them warm in the utmost desolate of temperatures, and no chill would bother them greater than the shiver that pained, agony filled cry had done. Their eyes shutter behind their shell and mask, mandibles clinking again. They were uncertain for what they were searching for now, but surely anything would be better than foraging off scraps and nibbling on berries that made them sick for days afterwards.

They wished they'd taken up cartography like their other sibling had, before they'd parted ways in the Wastes beyond the kingdom eternal. Now, they were left with their horrible sense of direction and, if one were to ask, they were pretty sure that they'd passed the same couple of bushes a couple times now. They squinted, moving closer to the bush and brushing it with a pedipalp. This one smelled different than the other bush, so obviously it wasn't trekking in circles. Progress! They would be quite happy about it the bush was edible, though. That would be far greater, and far less of an annoyance for the small hybrid. Mossy cloak is adjusted as they settle for a moment, wanting to allow their eight legs some rest before they continued trekking to Abyss-knows-where.

novice ❈ attack in bolded #4da16a

ROMULUS MALUS - KINGPIN - COTC

Small. A word foreign to him. The lion had always been the largest out of his family (which was quite ironic considering his path in life). Every now and then there was someone bigger, but the chance was rare. Romulus had come to terms with his posture and embraced it where he could, especially in daily tasks within the Coalition of the Condemned. Somewhat like the guy you'd ask to reach the high item on the shelf. That was Romulus. As for being small... Well... That was everyone else. Except this other fellow. That was the lower end of the spectrum.

Upon approaching, the lion noticed the scurrying of eight legs and was followed by the intriguing swoop of their cloak as they settled. Strange. He let his periwinkle eyes survey the other's intriguing stature. Their stature appeared to be a mix between a spider and a dragon, interestingly enough. The kingpin had never seen anything like it. His head lowered down further as he observed the being in the distance, trying to gain a closer look.

Breaking free from his interest, the male posed a question. Despite their harmless appearance, they were still a trespasser and perhaps a potential threat. The lion broke through the brushes nearby and came to where the other settled. "Why are you within trivial lands, little one?" he mused bluntly.