by Henry Avery » Fri Mar 19, 2021 4:14 pm
Dreadbolt has already stopped listening, though Fleck is watching the sky, a thoughtful look on his scarred face, a gleam of interest in his eyes. Meanwhile, Gaster stood, moving to look out a window at the burning, empty port beneath his manor.
What a pity... I had planned to host a ball this week, not that any of them would have attended.
He laughed bitterly, settling back down in his chair, waiting for Vune or one of his many servants to break the suffocating, depressed silence. After a few minutes, he stood, leaving his manor for the first time in many weeks.
Hello? What happened here? Someone? Anyone?
digna factis recipimus