poor boy, lost &. alone, the wind is your only friend. his howls are your lullaby, his icy touch a loving embrace, the twinkle of stars behind the rustling canopy the glint of a smile, a whispered chuckle into your ear. you take solace in it. but doesn't it get lonely? little boy? do you not wish for a mother's arms / a beating heart / warm hands ? do you not wish for a father's smile / a deep laugh / proud &. callused hands ? do you not wish for a sister ? a brother ? a lover ? a friend ? do you not wish to have someone, to no longer be so so so alone ?
of course you do.
but it is a mere wish &. your existence is far from a miracle.
of course you do.
but it is a mere wish &. your existence is far from a miracle.
@faemoria ✧
He tries to smile innocently. There’s the key term, though. TRIES. Despite his best attempts, he only succeeds in looking all the more guilty. Though, with the yetis mumbling angrily under their breath, &. frost - covered pools of paint sprawling across the wooden floor of North’s workshop, it was hard to PAINT himself in a worse light than this.
“ Tooth ! This . . . isn’t what it looks like, I promise ! ”