| White Weewoos don't exist. *shifty eyes* |
Circulation: 193,800,035 |
Issue: 714 | 8th day of Sleeping, Y18 |
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Paint Brush Woes
by milestrong
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Great stories!
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 The Bennett Files: The Case of the Faerie Ring
It was a chilly day in Altador, which was why Strai was happy to be working inside for once. As a Maraquan Gelert, he was naturally inclined to be outside, or at least around a body of water. Today, though, he was pretty certain that if he had stayed outside for more than a few hours without an enchantment, he would have shriveled up from the dry air and shrunken into a nice little Brucicle.
by amarettoball |
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 Beneath the Haunted Woods: Part Four
Nothing but the sounds of crumbling stones and rock could be heard as Arthur traversed the dark, hollow tunnel, his hand against the wall to keep himself from slipping over the rough, jagged ground beneath him. The red Zafara’s legs ached, his head throbbed and his eyes weary. Small, loose stones that littered the cave floor pinched, stabbed and strained his feet with every step.
by shadowknight_72 |
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