Protector.

Mathis' muse has been rough to dig up the last couple of months.

It still is, I won't lie.

I'm trying to scrounge him up because I know you lot are a great fan of him, and I appreciate that so much. I love him too!

I'm just being honest.

If I'm inactive on him, however, this doesn't mean I'm inactive period.

I've a new account here, and an old account I've been recently using over here.

They're both very dear to me, and both are not experiencing quite as much love as I would have hoped. I worked hard on both of them.

So please-- If I'm not around here, don't neglect my other creations?

"But of course!" Mathis exclaimed.

After all, how hard could a simply pose for a casual picture be? Something you would put on Facebook?

His wide smile thinned out into a smaller one. Too plain? He went for a lip-less grin-- That would make him seem unhappy. Not smiling at all was too serious for his interests-- But perhaps that was the purpose of posing. Show your emotion with the body other than the face, eyes.

Unbeknownst to him, Mathis expressed each thought via action, a confused Kayla staring over her camera.

After several seconds of this charade, Mathis looked over at her with a pathetically sharp face, eyebrows drawn low over his eyes and lips poised in what can only be described as 'duck-face'.

Kayla burst out laughing.

"...."

Large, round nostrils hovered over the water's surface, a glowing reflection staring back as the bear took-- what appeared-- a curious sniff of the water. The spirit exhaled. The water remained undisturbed.

His blurred, white eyes shown back at him, the moon's twin children in the piece.

He leaned back.

The bear sat on it's bum-- Much similar to the way humans would just casually sit in a seat, only with his massive arms tucked between his spread legs. He hunched. Looked about the empty dock, flakes of snow drifting down and clinging to his black fur.

Still, he was roughly 6 feet in height.

The Soul gave his head a lazy shake. He remembered the docks, the meeting of the young woman who sat with him when he came here. She would tell him about her day. Talk to him, ever if he said nothing.

Sometimes didn't even look at her.

It had been months, had she even remembered?

There's a knock at the door, to which the tired newly-appointed-Father quickly shuffled for the door, hoping the sleeping Princess down the hall wouldn't be awoken.

But I'm feeling spreaded muses.

The sun wasn't quite setting yet, but the afternoon had certainly kicked in. Families were beginning to go home from their adventures in the London streets, leaving parks and going into restaurants for dinner. They tiredly huddled into cars and returned to their flats and homes.

I HAD PLOTS FOR BOTH

I am return, but my Mathis muse isn't terribly livid right now.

I'm just kinda hanging around and reading shit.