The Hauler was once a gentle giant. Like all the other Axons, it wasn't hostile. All it did was roam the world, enjoying the tingle of the little creatures running all over its back and proudly showing off the buildings they made to decorate it.
With time, more and more buildings were added, the tiny colony becoming a city. And so the Hauler began hunching, the slump of its shoulders growing deeper and deeper. It was tiring. It hurt. But everything would be fine as long as it could stop every now and then to rest.
Then the city kept growing. The Hauler could barely walk anymore. As the unbearable weight made it stagger and stumble, the pain grew more and more intense. It made its once kind and loving temperament bitter and violent.
By the time it reached Old Lumiere, all the creatures it used to love and care for had left. Yet the buildings remained. The persistent ache of its limbs remained. And the Hauler buckled, dropped to its knees, face on the ground.
When the long-haired hero turned up, greatsword in hand, it didn't even put up a fight. It welcomed every blow, every stab through its stone-like skin. Especially the one that pierced the back of its neck.
titsay
annaxmalina
andulkaphoto
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vaporwave
blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
germansingergirl
jacobvanloon
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
