01-07-2021, 02:06 AM
[div style="margin: auto; max-width: 475px; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]As the days passed him by it grew further evident Salvia was not cut out for filling the role of big brother in any capacity, his self deemed best efforts weighed beneath worry. Plagued his thoughts by such, an anxiety that curled the words in his throat, laid stone where they once were, clumsy anything he tried with a faux relaxation to carefully performed actions. Within short intervals he was capable of keeping such act up, recalled praising Sun in a manner he had been subject to before and thus drew from words offered to him, the assistance for Opaline not needing words. Different the story with Missing, about crowded father and brother, pressure put upon to act properly.
Fault his own, and to him must lay the task of fixing such poor behaviour, a plan quietly set in motion. Spoken of her wish to make her shapes one day into flowers, novel the idea though far was she from such goal, inspiration and reference may well assist. Such which drove Salvia from shared home into the forest edging the town, from jaws hung his basket.
Rather futile his search, deepened the hold winter had about the land, meagre the few remaining blooms that stubbornly clung. Small those he amassed, some ravaged for the first he handled with no true care, others more workable but showing signs of withering. The best he was capable of was this, however, and his return proved lesser, eyes roving his findings as heavy steps drew him once more home. Upon entrance he deposited the basket within the front room and about the structure did he wander, at irregular intervals calling in a questioning tone. "Missy? I, uh, have something for you."
[member=17287]Missingkit[/member]
Fault his own, and to him must lay the task of fixing such poor behaviour, a plan quietly set in motion. Spoken of her wish to make her shapes one day into flowers, novel the idea though far was she from such goal, inspiration and reference may well assist. Such which drove Salvia from shared home into the forest edging the town, from jaws hung his basket.
Rather futile his search, deepened the hold winter had about the land, meagre the few remaining blooms that stubbornly clung. Small those he amassed, some ravaged for the first he handled with no true care, others more workable but showing signs of withering. The best he was capable of was this, however, and his return proved lesser, eyes roving his findings as heavy steps drew him once more home. Upon entrance he deposited the basket within the front room and about the structure did he wander, at irregular intervals calling in a questioning tone. "Missy? I, uh, have something for you."
[member=17287]Missingkit[/member]