#dignotions

when i see blogs that have like -8px font, im so...

I put my blog text to 15, because when you format the post it shrinks it on the blog, too, if you use small text. There’s a good chance someone has a 10px font, but formats in small or super small font, which cuts it down to 8px

I don't even know where to start with @dignotions. Everything they put out is absolutely stellar. Their headcanons, their threads, their crack. It gives me life and honestly sometimes is the kickstart I need to feel my own muse for the day. I love the direction they've taken Impa, and all of their Sheikah lore is perfect and cool and just *chef kiss*

— veruminumbra.

Her warning had come in the form of sparks, making the hair on her arms stand on end. A storm was rapidly approaching, and while she knew she could probably make it to an inn with no small amount of luck, she didn’t want to back track. So she’d hurried to the outcropping of rocks, knowing that she could make it there and stay safe by the shrine. It was a short climb, long arms making short work of the cliff face and resting against the ever closed face of the establishment. She knew they wouldn’t be open until the hero returned, and ventured close enough to find them. But it served her purpose well enough.

She wouldn’t be electrocuted today.

Not a moment later, another figure approached, alabaster hair giving them away as another Sheikah. Another person she would end up lying to, but then she had long since stopped worrying about what her people thought of the familiar face that wandered the kingdom.

The fields were lit with burning fires, the young man hobbled out through the grass covered lands, this was something so humiliating and so painful to endure.. Wasn’t he someone that those people who were driving him out would consider a hero? The young warrior stood with tattered clothing, bearing wounds throughout his whole body, had just committed the most egregious offense to this land as a whole, and as things stood, he was a traitor, to his family and worst of all the very people he was trying to save.

Send me words and I will write a Drabble based on them.

The Calamity raged overhead, chaos, death, it surrounded them like a fog, and Malik didn't know if they would escape, with Guardians between them and the path to freedom, a small raft big enough to carry their group to safety but with children among their number, they would never make the mad dash. Not with stalkers searching for them where they hid.

He squared his jaw and glancing to his Sheikah Clansmate nearest him he handed over the little girl that had clutched to him like a lifeline. " Keep this ΜΙΚΡΟΣ (little one)  safe."

"Where are you going? “

“Malik? “

“Malik, what are you doing?"

He looked at them before pulling his hood over his head, picking up his bow, " When I draw them away, run. Get far from here." he murmured softly as he looks over his remaining arrows, he only has three. He will have to make them count, he cannot afford to screw up.

" Do you really intend to Sacrifice yourself!?"

He took a deep breath and turned to look at the one who had spoken, " Its either one of us or all, and I for one rather it be just me." he told the woman before glancing back around the corner,  "Remember when they leave, run." he hissed and with no goodbyes, they were too hard anyway, he ran, firing off one arrow, straight into a guardian, he didn't aim for the eye, he wasn't aiming to stun, he wanted them to follow, distracted enough to go after him. Leaving the others to escape.

He dodges the first canon beam, ducks under a second as it sends rubble crashing down, stones dislodged from their resting places upon the wall above him.

He rolls out of the way and takes off at a dead run, another arrow piercing the eye of a Guardian that tried to cut off his escape, the rest following close, he knows he cannot outrun them for long, but that isn't his goal, another corner, and he's comes upon a dead end, a portion of the wall has collapsed, blocking his escape, his good ear twitches and he turns hearing them closing in on him. Above him, a flying sentry, his last arrow makes short work of it, and it explodes into scattered parts before hitting the ground with a crashing finality.

The sheikah turns and as the first Guardian makes appears at the entrance to the dead end he tossed his bow to the side and unsheathes his short swords, they gleam in the light and he steels himself, he knows he will not live past this day, but by the Goddess he will die on his feet, not on his knees.

Holding his swords out he begins to walk forward, aware now that there are several sights, red points of light centered on his chest. And he begins to speak, his Devotion clear in the words he speaks, and the strength of his conviction echoing off the stone held in his voice. Even as the beeping of the Guardians becomes louder.

An old Sheikah Prayer, spoken by those who knew they went to their doom.

Going onto pages of sheikah muses and seeing they...

WE DID SO GOOD

He watches her intently  before taking a breath and settling down to listen to the rest of her tale, he though he did not understand the reason always found his feet returning to this self same spot. Her words seemed to speak to him on a level that those of others did not.

Something in her words. He did not speak again until she was finished and he sat near crossed legged and ventured to ask, " Gods and Goddess's ask so much and yet so little of us. How do we know what they wish? How do we ask what it is they want us to do and how do we know if the path we are on is the correct one?"

He had so many questions in his heart, but the one that rang the loudest, was one that went unsaid.

'How can I ask her forgiveness, how can I show her I want to know the path she intended for me to walk?'