[ Levania reaches out to something with spiky leaves he doesn't entirely like the looks of, then thinks better of it, pulling back. A rock. He needs a rock. He's learned his lesson with this already-- once, being careless with that chain trailing from his arm had very nearly gotten him strangled. ]
...Thorns.
Anything with thorns. They slip in and wait to grow stronger. I've started to hate roses.
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...Thorns.
Anything with thorns. They slip in and wait to grow stronger. I've started to hate roses.