Karken's latest activity
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“I reckon…” Long, pale lines worn through to the packed gravel beneath, upon a snaking hump which keeps feet and hooves dry above the... -
The birds continued to huddle around, and if anyone had a gimlet gaze they might find that green eyes would be reflected in each bird's...
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Secrets of the dead, a niht-hróc’s scavenged wisdom, portents and promises as posed in the heavens; such things are not for Osytha to...
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The indelible scent of cloves hung heavy around her as she hummed. The snow fall softened every note, pipe smoke swirling up like a...
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Helena said nothing. Feint smile on her lips. Taking into account the three of them before her. "You are free to go as you please, Syr...
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“Remindin’ thee of t’ pynots around Lehtoja, syr?” "Didn't think such birds took wing to these winds this time of year," he confessed...
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The look spared to Agatha was respectful, followed by a nod, muttered 'pleasureismine's and falling behind obediently. The drakes could...
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Helena's eyes, their color of dark earth, gleamed as her lip curled up. "Who else, Syr Osytha of Dusk?" she bowed her head just so, to...
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Osytha bores holes into the messenger’s back with her stare until another wind in the road takes him, and his horse, out of sight behind...
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The remark about littering did not in turn litter Valborast's thoughts. A turning of a page of time in his mind did flip, wishing less...
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"Sorry, Syr Valchek." Alouette apologized solemnly, head lower, looking up between her eyelashes in case the Knight's scorn might be too...
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At Esota’s other flank, the big dawnling’s counterpart ushers her big grey in a little closer. Near enough that Osytha’s voice can carry...
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North and East of Crown’s Hold, in the wilds of the woods where the Vayd tree roots, resides a storied order. Once,the Knights of...
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Despite the few hours of sleep he'd gotten, Aelius was cursed to always wake up in time for his morning prayers - usually to greet the...
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Osytha glances down into her mug, where some barest hint of her reflection stares right back from the low umber tide. ‘Want’? She...
