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Zecora (
zebrarhyme_everytime
) wrote
in
wonderful_logs
2012-12-07 03:03 pm (UTC)
no subject
[Zecora accepts her pin, tucking it into her cloak.]
Onwards I must go, to my sorrow.
I'll see you this night, or tomorrow.
[One wouldn't know she's been going for eleven days straight, as she picks up to a trot through where the wall had been.]
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no subject
Onwards I must go, to my sorrow.
I'll see you this night, or tomorrow.
[One wouldn't know she's been going for eleven days straight, as she picks up to a trot through where the wall had been.]