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"My distant dalliance's delights died in the darkness dividing me from my dear's doorway," Sasfsets quoted.
"Miss?"
"I don't like being this far from the shore."
It was really dark. Away from the bright light and hum of the shoreline, the chosen island was dark. The interior was so dark. A few trees, a few vines, put out a spattering of faint green aurora. Enough to give a sense of depth of the forest. Not enough to navigate by. Not enough to feel comfortable by. Awful. Awful island. The other one was better. It wasn't too late, now that she had funds, to turn around and buy guns. To sail back to 11 Meditations of His Own Asshole's island and kill him.
It was so dark here.
"So, how's the land buoy," Sasfsets asked, to get her mind off the voiddark seeping into her bones from every direction.
"It's off by a few paces," Abatl reported. "It's not a straight line, not really. This whole column is very offset."
"I don't see a surfeit of reasons to come this far in-island anyway," Sasfsets said. "The tracelines don't need to be exact."
"Yes miss. It's only that, I can feel how offset it all is. It bothers me."
"You can feel the land buoys without a ranger's wand?"
Abatl went on to explain how she could feel the relative direction of each landmark to one another thanks to her natural pathfinding powers, and how it stuck in her mental map of the island like an uneven brushstroke, and how stressful it was, and all Sasfsets could think about was how adorable the petle was and how she wanted to do awful things to her, out here, where no one could hear them.
"Let's hope we find a stretch better suited to farming," Sasfsets said, instead. "Five more buoys until we reach the other shore, right?"
"My distant dalliance's delights died in the darkness dividing me from my dear's doorway," Sasfsets quoted.
"Miss?"
"I don't like being this far from the shore."
It was really dark. Away from the bright light and hum of the shoreline, the chosen island was dark. The interior was so dark. A few trees, a few vines, put out a spattering of faint green aurora. Enough to give a sense of depth of the forest. Not enough to navigate by. Not enough to feel comfortable by. Awful. Awful island. The other one was better. It wasn't too late, now that she had funds, to turn around and buy guns. To sail back to 11 Meditations of His Own Asshole's island and kill him.
It was so dark here.
"So, how's the land buoy," Sasfsets asked, to get her mind off the voiddark seeping into her bones from every direction.
"It's off by a few paces," Abatl reported. "It's not a straight line, not really. This whole column is very offset."
"I don't see a surfeit of reasons to come this far in-island anyway," Sasfsets said. "The tracelines don't need to be exact."
"Yes miss. It's only that, I can feel how offset it all is. It bothers me."
"You can feel the land buoys without a ranger's wand?"
Abatl went on to explain how she could feel the relative direction of each landmark to one another thanks to her natural pathfinding powers, and how it stuck in her mental map of the island like an uneven brushstroke, and how stressful it was, and all Sasfsets could think about was how adorable the petle was and how she wanted to do awful things to her, out here, where no one could hear them.
"Let's hope we find a stretch better suited to farming," Sasfsets said, instead. "Five more buoys until we reach the other shore, right?"
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1556 x 917px
File Size 570.3 kB
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