Dec 7, 2018
Character Idea #3
The grass bows and wilts at his unspoken command, the flutter of a touch sends a willow crashing, groaning painfully, as it’s roots uplift vivid flowers. The vivid sun cannot reach his shadow, the moon cannot hide it. Twisting in turning with his movements like his heart, vines snagged and painful as they tug relentlessly without purpose. A wildcard, a cheated hand, a joker amidst kings and queens. His kingdom flourishes as the enemy dies, sunken and hollow in ashy dead ground. If I am my own enemy I die, but I am already dead.
