Words of the Constant
I think it looks much better this way.
I think it looks much better this way.
A castle for my home.
The builders have left it in a state of abandonment.
You'd think this would have more uses.
Ugh. You have to build it?!
Are you prepared for what you'll find?
Disgusting. Why keep this around?
Unsettlingly wobbly.
Everything eventually turns to dust.
Fuel must flow.
The fuel runs deep in this.
A broken relic.
A relic best forgotten.
It seems I am to be judged.
And I may never put it back on.
But that means I'd have to touch the smelly thing.
But is it fast enough to escape the judgmental stares?
I hate it.
At least it affords some dignity to the rider.
I suppose the beast deserves a bit of protection.
A bit spicy for my delicate palate.
This will extend the life of our supplies somewhat.
So salty.
Blech, it's covered in beefalo spit.
Am I to be a salt miner now?
Odd...
It seems to be growing back...
It's been mined down to nothing.
Don't you DARE shake seawater all over my suit!
It conveys an air of authority. I think it suits me.
Impressive.
That was quite impolite.
I can see its true nature now!
There are two ways to see that obstacle.
Oops.
What has brought this blight upon my world?
Looks a little off, if you ask me.
A supple, woody stem.
It'll grow back.
Nothing survives in this heat.
Well... fine. I suppose that sums it all up, more or less.
Nothing is safe.
The scarecrow has gone to a place where there is no fear.
It's an empty shell of a man.
At least the fire cut down on the smell.
Curious. It may yield some useful information.
Can you really call that pile of refuse a hat?
I don't need glasses! Who told you I need glasses?
How I've missed the act of creation.