#greymaned

[vrasethic-blog]

greymaned

  GENN IS A DIRTY MONGREL THAT LICKS HIS OWN BUTT....

MEET ME IN THE PIT SCRUBLORD

OK, BUT REALLY ALL I GOTTA DO IS YELL BINGO TO DISTRACT YOU AND THEN PUNCH YOU IN THE HIP.

[rctchild]

❝I do not fear the people.❞

                    “You should.”

     White ghostlight glared at him, and from the shadows came the sound of chains scraping across the floor. If there had been any attempts to feed the boy, the food had gone untouched. Though disarmed, helpless, and shown mercy, he spoke with a certainty that emphasized his already-obvious loyalties. “The rest won’t be as incompetent as I was.”

[bpw-blog1]

@greymaned @finelendal

[bpw-blog1]

greymaned replied to your post:

I would never say ’ Shagadellic that word can go to the dogs

don’t you have crotches to sniff olde man.

[of-wolves-and-lions]

@greymaned commented on this post: I suppose I should be flattered?

“It was that or kill you. I suppose I could always change my answer if you wish.”

[tradcprince]

{ @greymaned ♥’d for a starter }

         "So, lemme get this straight. You think I'll help you take down the Dark Lady?"

Gallywix had only agreed to this secret meeting for kicks. Sure, he had lamented the loss of profit that resulted from losing his neutrality, but since joining the Horde he had admittedly started to like it there. There was something so satisfying about having immediate allies to boss around and do business with, even though they could barely tolerate him. (If anything, that made it even better!)

"I won't pretend I haven't thought about it, or that it'd be hard for me to find some receipts to blackmail 'er with. But I also 'ain't a stupid man, furball; I dunno if you've noticed, but some places in Azeroth have been raining felfire the past few weeks! Brings up nasty memories of Kezan, you know. So why would I wanna overthrow 'er as warchief when we need her to keep the Legion out of our hair?"

[tradcprince]

sylvanas voice: stormheim was merely a setback

[rctchild]

@greymaned

    "Here is the rogue, your majesty. We will admit, he is... not what we expected."

The Gilnean guards pushed forth a Forsaken, of small stature and hissing in the tongue of the dead. That alone may not have been worth note, but as the boy's face was revealed for him, so was the evidence of an untimely end. Large eyes that had once been filled with innocence gave a ghostly white glow and daringly glared up at the worgen king. Pale lips pulled back to reveal a rotten yellow snarl. Even with his arms restrained and before the white wolf which plagued his queen (to whom he was clearly loyal: over the boy's chest was the unmistakable crest of the Forsaken bearing the Dark Lady's face) he refused to show fear to his enemies.

A mission gone awry-- a mission that the boy would only to himself admit was accepted with selfish wishes in his unbeating heart. He knew the Legion was the greater threat. He knew his queen's priorities were off. He didn't even think he wanted her as warchief, knowing what the greater issue at hand was. Yet, he still wished to win her approval, feeling as though to hear her praise would justify everything. So much for that. He hid this shame behind anger and loathing towards the worgen, wrists trying to squirm out of their binds.