Kraite stroked the ridge of fur back from the corner of his mouth and twisted the thin braid at the end. He disliked the style, but the braids appealed to Mallen. Repeating the action made him feel thoughtful.
He was not thoughtful. At least not anymore.
The bush in Qwain, especially here at the headwaters of the Drenfennelen river, smelled clean even a bit spicy. The warming morning air brought with it the earth aroma…
Lots of thoughts on this. Too many to put together into a thread of words at this point. He’s sitting atop an aqueduct ruin and gay. More later.
Made another theme change. It needs a better header photo, but I like the simplicity and the extra column. Will have to tweak or dump the tagcloud. Snuck a bit of AdSense in there too. Enjoy.
Word count: 136