Frey
The earth trembles where Remi has planted the seeds, and at first it looks as though they're going to be spat spitefully back at him. But not so - his offering is not only accepted, but appreciated. Tiny sprouts pop up from the ground, twisting and vibrant, seeking the warm sunshine. "The Greatwood seems safe enough with you in it, peach," Frey murmurs from the depths of the Crimson Cataract.
They appear at the water's edge, resting their forearms against the bank, much toned down from their sexually charged counterpart. "Unless there's something else on your mind?" There is, obviously, otherwise he'd not be here. Frey splashes their legs in the water, and crimson lichen crawls up their abdomen and onto their chest. They are, of course, unbothered.
They appear at the water's edge, resting their forearms against the bank, much toned down from their sexually charged counterpart. "Unless there's something else on your mind?" There is, obviously, otherwise he'd not be here. Frey splashes their legs in the water, and crimson lichen crawls up their abdomen and onto their chest. They are, of course, unbothered.
