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his horse was black as night, matching the color of his armor, lance, shield, and trappings. his helm, a gleaming three-headed dragon, wings spread, enameled in a rich red; its twin was painted upon the glossy black surface of his shield.

⠀⠀ 'a while' is an understatement. a handful of years, or more. he's gotten taller, and somehow, sadder.

do i still taste of war? can you still feel the battles on my skin stitched across my back? am i still rebuilding bone by fragile bone?

val . . . good to see you.

trying to separate the baelorites and maekarlings.

i agree. that one cousin of yours has … issues ….