A faint glow appear around Peter and Jiao as the creature nods its skeletal head towards them. “Answer what you are asked. Nothing more.” The stag says, displeasure writ on the bones of its skull with impossible clarity.
The dead one has little time for their diplomacy, philosophy, or those who hedge their bets.
It moves back, soulless eyes scanning them.
“How many?”
24 hours.
The dead one has little time for their diplomacy, philosophy, or those who hedge their bets.
It moves back, soulless eyes scanning them.
“How many?”
24 hours.
LONGNiGht
