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What a bastard, time is.
“I think you’ve had enough orders, Goldfinch,”
“We’re all captives of something, even things we don’t want to admit to.”
Rip tilts his head. “Your anger is misplaced, but I like it,” he says with a feral grin, sharp canines gleaming.
“I hope you burn so bright that you scorch your Golden King down to ash.”
I think this army needs a new hobby.
Anger has a way of burning enough to keep you warm, but when you let it drain away, the absence of that heat leaves you bleak with cold.
“Kindness shouldn’t have to be earned. It should be freely given.”
“If you tried, you could shine brighter than the fucking sun. Instead, you’ve chosen to sit back and wither.”
“I must insist that you shut the fuck up,” Osrik drawls.
Bahahahaha I Fucking LOVE everyone in Rips army to death
He wouldn’t hold me for comfort, but he’ll hold me for control.
