[The Army of the Dead. Yes, that too, if it even existed. She decides not to press it.]
I doubt that very much. They are miracles themselves, after all.
[Suddenly, again, she misses them -- her dragons. The palm not wrapped around the neck of the bottle opens and closes thoughtfully, and she can see the imprint of where scales had wanted to grow earlier when her anger had started to rise.
A cruel jest of this world, to curse her with their skin instead of their presence.]
no subject
I doubt that very much. They are miracles themselves, after all.
[Suddenly, again, she misses them -- her dragons. The palm not wrapped around the neck of the bottle opens and closes thoughtfully, and she can see the imprint of where scales had wanted to grow earlier when her anger had started to rise.
A cruel jest of this world, to curse her with their skin instead of their presence.]
A pity they are all male.