Indigo is a color. A blood color, one of twevle, thirteen if one went for technicality. Each one dividing into caste groups then delving into patterns and dialects and--
"Type of troll," He says. "HIS KIND ALL BEING OF SPECIFICS DONE."
He trudges deeper into the rising water, knowing it to be all kinds of dangerous but not knowing no other way. The water is cold which, with how cold his blood is natural, is all kinds of indicative. It ain't enough to draw a shiver from him, but from others certainly.
"...And good," He adds to the note of the other topic. "A WASTE OF MESSIAHS' GIFTS TO BE OF TOSSING TRASHING UNWANTED."
He wonders if it be deep enough to swim. He ain't want to try yet.
no subject
"Type of troll," He says. "HIS KIND ALL BEING OF SPECIFICS DONE."
He trudges deeper into the rising water, knowing it to be all kinds of dangerous but not knowing no other way. The water is cold which, with how cold his blood is natural, is all kinds of indicative. It ain't enough to draw a shiver from him, but from others certainly.
"...And good," He adds to the note of the other topic. "A WASTE OF MESSIAHS' GIFTS TO BE OF TOSSING TRASHING UNWANTED."
He wonders if it be deep enough to swim. He ain't want to try yet.