Little Caged Songbird
Yes the Adrian lad. (we had forgotten he cut his hair, whoops)

"I clearly said I don’t want to remarry."

[ Because shut up D8<

[ Because shut up D8<

How I draw object heads

[ by listening to “Timber”, “Wake me up” and “Feel this Moment” and that one happy song in one go alright let’s go ]







Oh hey. It’s been awhile, sir. … Thankfully this is the last I see of you, HA! 

What… what if we bring this guy back….? What if?


Berry no.



But… Shan. But Shan. But Shan look.


He’s kind of awesome.

Yes and I heard he also kind of KILLS PEOPLE D’8< 

Yes… but only towards the end of the story and most of the collateral damage was accidental. >.>


This is a dangerous game.

What about the long haired lad?

Long haired? She immediately thought of her dear bird, Adrian. Though, if she remembered correctly, his hair was completely cut into nothing but a messy scruff. The woman tilted her head, almost forgetting about the question as she lifted a finger and rubbed it against her bottom lip in thought. How was he doing? Has he been alright? She began to tug at the tips of her gloves.

"…Mn." She remembered that someone asked her a question and she looked up to the forest. "Do you mean Adrian? Or someone else?"

[ *crawls to computer* … *plops* ]

[ sick and monthly holy shit ]

So even when that nice hunter asked you, you didn't consider it?

Wren sighed heavily then she looked towards the voice. “There were so many things to consider, I just—” she took in a breath, her fingers curling but then she tried to have them relax and she crossed her arms. "I could not." She spoke in a more stern tone.

"I do not want to remarry."

Have you ever considered remarrying?

What?! Wren immediately turned her head to the direction of the voice. She looked appalled at the thought, confused as if… why in the world would she be asked such a question?! How can they ask that?

"No!" Not at all! Never! Why would she?

Have you ever wanted kids, or planned for them?

"Mn…" Wren looked to the side, her fingers tugging at the tips of her gloves. Wanted? They both wanted. Planned? They both planned. And planned. And planned…

        and planned.

And never one. What it must be like to have a miracle in her arms. Tiny teeth on her breast. The gentle, weak grip of small hand on her finger.



Have you ever gotten sloshed-aka drunk

That’s what that meant?! It was just another word for ossified! Or was it zozzled? Oz… oh, nevermind. She frowned and shook her head. “Ah, no.”