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“”By Asta!” She said, as the ghost was standing taller and taller on the surface.
She got on the edge of the bridge, trying to reach her sister : “Sophie, Sophie, I am so sorry about the barn! I am so sorry about the ladder! I didn’t know it was broken!”
“Come to me Josephine, I can’t hear you…” mumbled the soaked figure, her head down, glowing as would a firefly.
And it was at that moment, as she prepared to go in the water, that our dear friend took off her shoes, poor foolish girl.”
Anne of Maumesnil, Prose from the Path
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Silly goat god that’s a knight guy he probably needs some luck. love this page.
Did you know goats can talk… Those bastards.
-Phillip, farmhand.
Too bad he doesn’t know what to do with it π
Truly, what you describe seems as a dream from Gnezom. No clouds should rightfully swirl in that way, and yet no goat should call out, and no ridge should stand suspended, and no head should provide luck. I begin to see why your reputation for wondrous stories has spread among my fellow diplomats and I.
Even the realms of madness have their own paths, be they detours or shortcuts form the ones we know. You will soon learn them, for good or ill.
Woah, so his head is magic and protecting the mountain?
Oh, maybe, but who would trust a goat anyway?
LOL
.. out of a sudden I find myself somehow in these desolate lands … and I have to admit they contain wondrous stories and mesmerizing pictures!
thank you so much for that.
Welcome to the Rocks then, fellow traveler, feast your eyes and soul!
And thank you in return π
Whew, that was close. Now back carefully off the precarious ledge.
(Also love the colors on this page. Beautiful and awe inspiring.)
Clouds are shamefully easy and enjoyable to do, I am glad to see that you love them too^^