Weyland, Smith to the Gods (
mechanicalswans
) wrote
in
7twistedwishes
2008-10-11 02:38 am (UTC)
no subject
He reaches up, hesitantly, to smooth back her hair and stroke her cheek.
"Be well, little one," he murmurs, before turning to start back across the ice.
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"Be well, little one," he murmurs, before turning to start back across the ice.