reality whispers a different tune underwater
Delta slides forward toward it, and the eyes blink slowly – a sharp grin forming within the inky cloud, its teeth needle-like and sharp, jagged and bright compared to the darkness within it. ”Nobody has asked for my name in an age, dear child.” It croons, before suddenly it disappears.
It reappears hovering over Delta’s shoulder, inky tendrils stretching out to pull at her hair, that toothy grin bright and glowing with its many eyes. ”Why would you need help?”
It reappears hovering over Delta’s shoulder, inky tendrils stretching out to pull at her hair, that toothy grin bright and glowing with its many eyes. ”Why would you need help?”
Random Event
