ImCookiie

Great work!

I am feeling attacked.

“Oim niet thought oi’d ever become ah champion ouf somethin’— apart from tah’ oen time. . wit’ tah pies.” The Proudfoot commented to no Halfling in particular, choosing to relish in the silence that bestowed itself thereafter. He’d return home before the sun descended, procuring the shogging equipment that had been passed down for generations. For hours, he’d practice each valiant swing— smashing almost all the ceramic vases around the burrow, in desperate attempt to become the best around, for no being would bring him down.

Here’s another favorite of mine.

”Ain’t niet tah Halfling es afraid ouf. Weh shall beh victorious—” The Proudfoot exclaimed atop his burrow with audacious might, albeit falling silent thereafter for there was no soul near the enchanted utterance of the brave Sheriff. He returned to his abode, preparing to share the news with his fellow kin. “Weh must beh prepared!”

“Oim comin’!” The Proudfoot admitted, in a rapid path towards his home— preparing the infamous baked goods of his kin.

Incredible work.

Wee woo! This is fun.

Incredible work.

The Elervathar child had become encompassed in confusion and riddled in the fear that her home had been cursed through the impure actions of others. Her parents roamed around the near-desolate halls of the manor, in constant argument about topics unbeknownst to her. Elesia prepared for the worst, procuring recollection of her most valuable possessions— her vast assortment of teddies. “Hmh...” There was a moment of mute thought, as she attempted the arduous quest to select her favourite for the possible change ahead. “You. You... You, too.” Another call, to the cat that followed her. “Come along. We’ve quite the trip.” Dimaethor had called for her, and in that moment she had to depart. The child offered her room a final digestive observation, soft countenance creased in her squinted visage— until her blue-gradient orbs fall unto Iaria, once and for all, buoyant smile growing upon her puffy cheeks. Hastily, the small Elervathar began a rapid hop towards her father, forcefully curling her arms around his figure.