Remember when Badrang offered Martin a position in his horde and Martin bit the tyrant’s wrist down to the bone with his bare teeth
Today out of nowhere I realized I’m still not over Feldoh and Rose dying at the end of Martin the Warrior.
I’m fonder of Mariel and Dandin as BFFs than as a couple. Needs to be more devoted hetero-platonic relationships in fiction, I think.
I want to find where Brian Jacques’ grave is.
I want to find it and put a rose on it.
Camp Willow was burning and so was Marshank, but at least there was music.
Tullgrew coughed, heaving the smoke out of her lungs, and she collapsed against the hard rubble of the fortress. Her head swam, and she felt ash and iron dripping out of her mouth—maybe it was from her mouth; it was in her nose too, but it was also down her arm and all over the place on everyone, so it really didn’t matter where it was from—and there was burning twine cutting into her paw. Tullgrew looked down and realized a fist was curled around her sling. A scarlet line was running down through the creased fingers. Tullgrew noted they were hers.
I love you so very much. I love Tullgrew’s memories of Hillgorse and her thoughts of the others, like Felldoh and Martin and
TIGHT KNIT MAKESHIFT FAMILY UNIT THAT DIDNT GET ENOUGH OF ANYTHINGGG SOBSOBSOBS sadfg kjl SARA I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW YOU DONT EVEN I’ll just keep reading and rereading this grinning stupidly all day (Paper/class what paper/class??)
your imagery is beautiful and Tullgrew’s voice is strong and distinct. You just made my life~
I might actually print this out so I can read it in class adsfd