Jul 16, 2021
B L A K E 💨
Another night, another glow of the campfire painted Wren’s face. A bouquet of bruleed marshmallows filled the air around the mage, with stacks of chocolate at his side in preparation of smores. At a glance you wouldn’t have seen a son of the gods that had survived a capture, air lifted back to camp, fought monsters in Antarctica just days ago—no instead there was a sugary fiend on his fifth piece of melted goodness when he caught Blake in the distance.
“Yo speedster park it over here.” Wren yelled with sticky lips and a wave of his hand, as mi smores es su smores. “You look like you need something sweet right about now…”