| White Weewoos don't exist. *shifty eyes* |
Circulation: 195,607,488 |
Issue: 867 | 31st day of Hunting, Y21 |
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Short Stories
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"The Sisters of Pillar Grove" by blueys45
Wingen never wanted to be alone. But sometimes, he needed to be.
The fire Wocky squeezed himself into a narrow alley between two buildings that was barely wide enough for a child like him. Upon hearing the echoes of boots against the metal walkways and the clamoring voices that followed, Wingen tucked in his tail and pulled the collar of his jacket over the ruff of orange fur around his neck. He quieted his breath and listened. The fingers of his free paw absentmindedly fiddled with a yellow, gem-like piece of magical candy; if the soldiers got too close for comfort, he would vanish in an instant.
Other Stories
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 Shadow Play:Part Twelve
The Scorchio closed the door behind Isengrim and waited outside, cupping his claws to the door to eavesdrop. Evidently, however, physical barriers were no issue for those who traveled through the shadows, and Zoltan slipped everyone inside as though there was no door at all.
by cosmicfire918 |
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