Silver Ink Quill

Scott Springwell

Katie the Brave!

An addition of our lovely Empurrur

My "yes, and" to this is: one day scott remembers this and makes that connection of maybe he could talk to nom. After all, the trees have always talked to him when he called. So he runs to the cliff as fast as he can, hoping that just maybe he'll get to hear Nom's voice again. But when he gets there and begins to commune with the tree, there is nothing but silence. That connection is still there, that little ember of magic within all living things. It looks bright and warm, it sounds like the soft clattering of dice, and it feels like that little smirk he always wore. It feels like home. That little spark of magic is as strong as ever, probably a symptom of his damn stubbornness, and yet... whenever scott reaches out to ask something, there is only the faint strumming of guitar strings on the wind.

eloise: okay look, martyn, if someone gives you a brownie right, and you don't know whats in it, don't take it cause you've got quite a look on your face right now owain: what does that mean? frogue: bro, it wasn't a brownie, i just straight up had a blunt owain: WHAT? EXCUSE ME??

no one's gotten me flowers in a long time.

owain can never catch a break