[Slanting his head just a tad to take in the way Asper tells his tales better, curious, Zagreus nods and looks over at the forest and the way the darkness beckons. His mind goes straight to one person — a work-driven Fury, steadfast and with low, wide shoulders. Humble and with reasons to be proud instead. Tsc, she'd say, with actual fondness, even though she had stamped him as a hopeless case, having given up tutoring him on administrative tasks that were bound to her work.]
I do. [It's not without heart that he admits it: he misses the quirk of Meg's lip whenever she tries not to laugh at something he said.] She also has one wing. Albeit hers isn't feathered.
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I do. [It's not without heart that he admits it: he misses the quirk of Meg's lip whenever she tries not to laugh at something he said.] She also has one wing. Albeit hers isn't feathered.