Spiteful Murkrow
Well-known member
- Pronoun
- he/him
Lyle sat among the apiary terraces with a small bag of berries as the monks and beekeepers tended to the various beehives and plots, gleanings for the next leg of that trip westwards along with Rodion and whoever they could talk into coming along, even if a part of him was a bit doubtful they'd find many takers other than maybe Silver. That didn't bother him so much, especially now that Betel had given them a way of jumping around larger distances quickly.
It was this stupid paper staring down at him right now:
Lyle honestly didn't know why he'd felt compelled to hold onto the thing from Templefell Cavern, especially since it wasn't needed anymore, but somehow when he was asked to think of a complementing ideal for the truth he'd written, he just came up blank.
What on earth was there to even say about it? It was the truth. There were times when he'd want things and they just weren't possible to get, with no shortage of lived experience to back it up. He just felt as if he ought to have been able to think of something to finish it, but everything just felt unsatisfying when he played around with it in his head.
He sighed and folded the paper up, turning his attention off to the workers in the background. He supposed there were other things he should be worrying about, too. He'd tried to dabble a bit with this Radiance power they'd retrieved, but he wasn't really sure if he'd gotten the hang of things or not while Rodion seemed to be flying up there with it. And everyone here seemed to have everything figured out and balanced.
Everyone but him.
"How on earth do these 'mons make everything look so easy?"
It was this stupid paper staring down at him right now:
Lyle honestly didn't know why he'd felt compelled to hold onto the thing from Templefell Cavern, especially since it wasn't needed anymore, but somehow when he was asked to think of a complementing ideal for the truth he'd written, he just came up blank.
What on earth was there to even say about it? It was the truth. There were times when he'd want things and they just weren't possible to get, with no shortage of lived experience to back it up. He just felt as if he ought to have been able to think of something to finish it, but everything just felt unsatisfying when he played around with it in his head.
He sighed and folded the paper up, turning his attention off to the workers in the background. He supposed there were other things he should be worrying about, too. He'd tried to dabble a bit with this Radiance power they'd retrieved, but he wasn't really sure if he'd gotten the hang of things or not while Rodion seemed to be flying up there with it. And everyone here seemed to have everything figured out and balanced.
Everyone but him.
"How on earth do these 'mons make everything look so easy?"