An enormous grey gryphon thunders down to the landing pad.
Around her neck is a cask; on investigation, it contains the sort of cider that is pressed fresh from apples, thick, brown, and murky. She unhooks it and sets it by the rest of the food, then goes to flop in a sunbeam.
(Which is to say, ugh, I'm about out of words. Hello all. Please cuddle.)
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Date: 2022-08-22 03:32 am (UTC)Around her neck is a cask; on investigation, it contains the sort of cider that is pressed fresh from apples, thick, brown, and murky. She unhooks it and sets it by the rest of the food, then goes to flop in a sunbeam.
(Which is to say, ugh, I'm about out of words. Hello all. Please cuddle.)