#iamwardxn

[p-lebian]

iamwardxn started following you

     The contour of a blade underneath      sartorial accoutrements has him wary.      He wouldn't speak; not unless spoken to.      It seemed only courteous to do so, if not      sensible on all accounts.

[forgeryy]

>>iamwardxn

     camp was struck, somewhere in the wilderness north of the bannorn. long days, long walks, long nights, long hikes, but there wasn't much in the way of silence, or discomfort. dan had grown to trust the commander -- warden amell, as he'd taken to calling the him. didn't take much, with what he'd been pulled from.

     cool breezes rustle the trees, and dan wraps his arms tighter around himself, standing straighter for a few seconds.  the warden-issued leather armor was better than the metal he'd been sent off with, and it's warmer, less prone to letting the wind in.

     " it's getting colder, "  he called out, moving towards the embers of a dying fire.  " there any special warden ways of keeping warm? dark, secret rituals? something with cows' blood? "  he chuckled.  " if you've got something, I'd like to hear it -- before the frost starts. "

[forgeryy]

§

send a simolean (§). get a situation.

8; embracing out of nowhere

 evil has a face.

long and snarled, bone warping into leathery flesh, with sockets that burned as they stared through to your tainted core. wings that beat back what little light still lives in the world, talons to bleed it dry. and its cry, maker its cry, sound and force enough to drive hell itself to spill onto once-good ground. it echoed, resounded through his soul, his skull, until shaking motion stirred the boy enough to realize it was his own mouth the shout came from.

white-knuckled hands gripped the commander's arms, anchoring dan in the swiveling world he'd been woken back into, raspy breaths revealing possible tears in his raw throat. two beats, and those hands scrabbled and nearly clawed for more of the man, lifting up while simultaneously pulling the warden downwards. those arms wound tight around his chest, not holding the man close, but holding on for what felt like his life. what he saw -- it couldn't just be a dream. he saw, he heard, he felt rotten earth under his feet and smelled the rotten flesh of it all, webbing black over brown over black.

even after he'd realized what he was doing, and who he was doing it to, he still couldn't let go. the warden understood. he had to, to at least some degree. whatever punishment or repercussion would come, he couldn't even bring it to mind; all that mattered was that someone, someone real, someone good, was within arms reach.

[forgeryy]

>>iamwardxn

     " --you can't just do that to me!! "

said the new warden, the the spider hovering over him.      he was sleeping.

[gildedivory-blog]

iamwardxn replied to your post:

(( the warden loves you and everything that you are. xoxo. ))

   Vivienne Greatly Approves.