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We like ‘em mean, we like ‘em keen, and we like confusing the fuck out of the grump. It’s even better when we can flit around them like a pretty fairy, dazzling them with our charm.
Delysian was the race of Demons who had become so Elf-like, they were basically the same.
Anything that a person required to live, whether it be food, water, a home, or even sanitary products, was freely available to all.
“You got a name?” he asked as they waited. “It would be impolite if I just called you woman along the way.” “Raewyn, but my friends call me Rae. You?” “Call me Merc, since I don’t particularly like it when people call me big fucker like you heard the other day.”
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Did he just call me an idiot? She didn’t have any weapons! I guess he is my weapon, though. Go forth, meat shield.
“What...” Her heart was nearly in her throat as she yelled, “What are you?!” The low, quiet laughter that echoed from him was dark, and almost cruel. “Now, why did you have to go and do that?”
Did he feel terrible that he paid those four humans to harass this woman? Not. One. Bit. Not when all her troubles would shortly end, alongside her life.
Run, little bunny. Run.
He’d once taught someone how to make these so she could show another of his kind how to, but he reflected very little on that fact whenever he used them.
“I have never been comforted, nor have I ever comforted another. I’ll stop.”
“The horizon looks like it’s on fire while purple stains the clouds.
He absolutely refused to wear a saddle like a damn horse. Giddy up? More like giddy go-fuck-yourself.
Was he having a mental breakdown?
I don’t want to let her go. I want her to be mine.
“I want you to be my beacon on the days the darkness wishes to take hold of me again.”
