Through the great dragon, the sheep’s voice spoke as a chorus of many; faces blurred upon the dragon’s own face, yet none showed the sheep’s own. (For was it truly the sheep who spoke?):
“We have existed for a millennia. Perhaps longer. We have seen many, and we have seen few. We’ve grown young, and we’ve grown old. We’ve been from the smallest of spores, to the largest of entities. We have lives slow, and we have lived fast.
We have seen those who rule with might, and we have seen those who rule with kindness.
You cannot kill or destroy us in a way that will matter to our narrative, nor us to you for your own. We may not have a voice, perhaps not even a true face. We apologize for whatever discomfort we are causing to you to even say this message. But do know we do not come here to speak of gods or ideology between right and wrong.
We simply ask to be friends. Time is a limited thing, and while there may be reality that your time draws closer with the fate you and your maker will have to decide, the memories we could make can outlast many. We see pain, we do not pity. We merely extend a stipe- a hoof, we suppose in this situation, for at least a portion of your time. Even if it’s to sit in silence, to stare at the stars that will vanish in the morrow, or to listen to the breeze of the land.
@askthetraveller (this was supposed to be a joke referencing that one mushroom post- I don’t even know why it got so deep- I just- enjoy the laugh of it I guess?? What did I even write and how did I make Tia terrifying-)
