12-20-2023, 07:43 PM
°• Olalla G. Semenov •°
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Night of No Stars was his most recent ambassador, one he put his trust into. Cautious and limited, but trust nonetheless. Something very valuable to him. To both, in every aspect. He was smart, and enthusiastic in his work, something Olalla had not seen - in the Pitt- in years it seemed. It was a breath of fresh, reliable air.
The beast nodded in greeting toward the midnight painted lion as Olalla pulled beams closer together, slabbing a mud, sand, and fiber mixture in-between them; his arms were caked in this mixture, fur crackled and dry with it, and any attempt to flake from it was just early balding, ripping out your coat by the seams.
"I need more wood," Olalla said finally, whistly and strained as he filled in creases and crevices of any and all size. And more fiber from the palm leaves near here." With a flick of his maw, he motion toward the trees that grew toward the east of them, only a few minute worth's walk from him. Night's next question drew his attention, eyes moving from squaring off beams to the dark male, gaze narrowing lightly.
He cleared his throat, pondering whether or not he wanted to answer or ignore him all together now. "If I stop, I won't continue." The behemoth's response was short, to the point, and subtly cryptic - but the truth. If he stopped now, he could not promise his continuation. Not even to himself.
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[member=23357]Night of No Stars[/member]
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