STORM RITUAL - THISTLE

[crittersheep]

[Your Barn seems to fall away to the sides, and you find yourself in an ice locker. It's freezing, making it difficult to think--and sickening. You feel so sick. You're feverish, you might cough, you stomach might make you keel over. There are some medicines in the locker; aspirin and the sort, but they only grant you the mildest of relief before making things worse. Well, regardless, you have a decision to make. . .]

Comments

[leonheartedly]

[he trusts people to have their priorities. Ruffles his hair as he passes by again]

[shortforever]

[grump grump grump GRUMP GRUMP GRUMP]