It doesn't react to the change in motion, the sword it holds in it's hand glows as it moves into the direction it wants to go.

He stays silent, slowly moving with the nothing of the sword and crown. His steps slow, the wind follows.

His sheep also follow, their cries making their presence known.

//

Uh huh

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮.

The black mass that was his face is melting further, the inky liquid pours down his neck and the front of his body.

At least he's paused.

But it doesn't seem like that stops the liquid this time.

. .

What was this feeling?

Tragedy isn't supposed to 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭.

It seems to be spreading faster.

Unjust anger.

( it seems more aggressive today. )

//

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The sheep crowd him.

They cry in dread.

Plant by plant.

Person by person.

It's all melting away.

ᵢ 𝒹ₒₙ'ₜ 𝓌ₐₙₜ ₜₕᵢₛ.

ೄྀ : @wartornpaths.bsky.social ,

But it never does.

It knows the sky hangs near.

They will watch him eerily stare to the grounds below.

He now stands at a cliff, the view ruined by the plauged sky and the tragedy that follows him.

He stares down, out at what was a beautiful land.

It feels nothing for it now.

Just stares, and stares. . Maybe something will come back to him.

. . It cannot wonder why she is there.

It only tilts it's head. .

There's another here. . it feels them lingering near. .

Perhaps that why it has paused in it's endless walk.

He looks up to the other, he can. . acknowledge the presence. . But not much more then that.

It doesn't feel, it doesn't have to-

Whats the point anyway?

//

Blinks slow

Hes stopped, just for a moment.

Just. . . Standing.

//

Oh hi

༻ @wartornpaths.bsky.social

//

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