Hooves clomping over the whitewashed planks, Doren sprinted along the boardwalk after Rondus, a portly satyr with butterscotch fur and horns that curved away from each other. Puffing hard, Rondus cut through a gazebo and started down the stairs to the field.
You should keep following him. He’s the real mastermind. Shoo. Go hide.” No response. “Okay, how about you stand guard while I sleep. Keep the giants away. Sound good? All in favor, hold perfectly still. Fine, I guess we have a deal.
….there is a difference between hearing and listening. You can’t always help what you hear. But you can control what holds your interest, what you choose to dwell on.
You’re free to dream however you wish,” Nollin teased. “But don’t ask the rest of us to share your unrealistic-” “Then don’t ask us to share your weakness!” Jason interrupted.
