#wisdomforged

[starvoiced-a]

@wisdomforged​

          a respectful bow to the hyrulian monarch . ❝ your majesty . ❞ come a serene voice , heavenly and sweet like honey , ❝ i have been sent by the goddesses with a message . ❞

[duskhero]

☁ + haha wow stingray is in the right and i am so wrong we 100% DO NOT need an australian version of breath of the wild // alternatively, this entire post from your blog: post/170966049496/you-chose-your-side

https://vocaroo.com/i/s125Ov7w12FT I CANT BELIEVE I GOT SO BAMBOOZLED ! ! ! 

[duskhero]

☁ + hi my name is julie and i'm an amazing person with amazing writing // alternatively, the response in this post from your blog: post/157855246766/hey-link-i-just-wanna-thank-you-for-your-services

https://vocaroo.com/i/s1TnJban03jb

link, in a nasally voice: im single btw ;)))))))))

[duskhero]

☁ + stingray loves my writing because it's wonderfully poetic in its own simple way and also loves me because i'm the cutest // ALTERNATIVELY, this post from your blog: /post/158339311181/i-cant-make-it

im :/ 

TILTED :/

[twilightforged-blog]

@wisdomforged

      “ah -- -- ! ”

      it’s with this wretched little sigh of hers that the imp materializes into a shadow being, bent over an imaginary surface, her chin cradled in both hands. midna lets her eyes go hooded, go bored -- it’s with this boredom that she watches the ‘ fated hero ‘ nurse her newest bruise.

      “injured again -- ?” there’s a another small sigh, high and inconsiderate. her feet kick idly behind her. “you know we’re on a bit of a time crunch... right ? ” 

[duskhero]

@wisdomforged

     there’s a quarter of the queen regent’s watch over the dunes of the gerudo desert left when it starts.

     it begins:

     a crease of his brow, once peaceful in sleep. the twitching of a pointed ear. this close to the fire, his features are cast in dark shadows.    

      it continues:

      his lips part, furrow now pronounced, and a short syllable escapes. it’s sleep-ridden, but that doesn’t stop the ihl from being heard. and then: the mih. and then, again: mih. mihd. and his body twitches, a full-soul flinch, his hand flying up as if to shield himself but never quite making it to his face. it falls into the sand, fingers grasping at weapons that aren’t there.

      it ends:

     all at once, link sits up, a harsh gasp wrenched from his throat. his hand flies to his shoulder, sand falling between his gloved fingertips, searching for the hilt of his blade. it isn’t there, and he grasps again and again, feeling the mud of panic seep into his lungs, making it harder to breathe -- gods, oh gods, breathe -- he does so, raggedly, and quickly --