*
Cracking his neck and wincing at the tightness of his muscles, Alastor flickered a disinterested gaze at the moth, before his own eyes finally rolled in annoyance.
“And just how long are you planning on holding that grudge, my dear? Til your death bed?” he mocked. “I warned you, several times to leave. There was a reason I did. You chose to stay, for reasons I’ll never understand. Why Miss Motha, you of all people should know what happens when a demon becomes feral.”
@mothablaze






