| Come dance with the Wanderers... |
Circulation: 193,831,355 |
Issue: 717 | 29th day of Sleeping, Y18 |
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Jhudora's Back!
by dutchese159
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Great stories!
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 Heavy Metal
A Mote. A particle, or speck of dust. A tiny, inconsequential amount of something, usually pictured floating off to nowhere. A little bit of somethingness to punctuate the nothingness. This might be what always made me uneasy, when I thought of motes - that emphasis of space. At least, I think it was; before that day, when I started thinking something else.
by placebo_533 |
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 Sir Tormund Ellis: A Documentary: Part Two
I trained officially with my sword before him, and I got sent into those disgusting sewers before him, and I woke up at the crack of dawn before him, and I think I might have even been Master Torak's favourite before him — I swear. But, you know, the day he came in, there was this... aura around him, like he was constantly surrounded by light motes.
by theschizophrenicpunk |
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 Celebrating Kacheek Day as a Newly-Morphed Kacheek
For Kacheeks all around Neopia, this means a day of mirth and merriment in celebration of our species’ long and storied history. For some of us, however, this day can be quite confusing as well. This is because some Kacheeks, such as myself, were not born as Kacheeks, but ended up becoming one for some reason or another.
by opossumman |
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