❝spineless curs, do they know who they've MESSED with?❞ BRAVADO disguising fear, a princeling all but having a TEMPER TANTRUM with the too long wooden twig in his hands. the weapon, a so called gift from the omnipotent stars. he huffs, sweat clinging to brow and back, teeth GRIT in the indignation of it all. perhaps one could accuse him of being spoiled, a brat who doesn't know a proper place, and yet, this city is crawling with those without a home, those who aren't even EQUIPPED to be away from their homes. the weapon splinters with a final crack at that angry thought, a lighting bolt cleaving the worn wood into pieces. ❝they've given me JUNK!❞
pointed ears twitch in keen awareness of a sound, rustling figures making the shadows their home. he stiffens, a twist of the skull, teeth bared only to see a boy HALF his age. grown men can be wicked and monstrous, he's been told, and above all else, they are STRANGE. there's very few things more frightening than the UNKNOWN. boys, though? well, he's still one — — ganondorf sighs, drops the useless weapon without passion. ❝are you just going to stare at me? or you have anything of VALUE to say?❞
@xcoriate liked for a starter.