❛ I DON’T remember him apart from the stories i’ve heard from my mother & the village. ❜ he thumbed the dragonscale. it was warm & familiar, fitting easily between his thumb and the side of his index finger. he could feel the engraving, where it dipped & rose. it was quiet, between them. the fire flickered, painting them in warm oranges & yellows. ❛ she never told me much about him other than that he was a good man. think she was trying to say i’d grow up to be one too. ❜
sc: @myrddinwyllt













