[ Silence. Only the distant sound of moisture slowly beading off rockface, dripping into dark crags of the unknown, greets this grand proclamation. Stiles stares blankly at Voryn as if the other man had started babbling in a foreign language. Then, without breaking eye contact, he lets the spider limbs dip him down into a facetious, mocking bow.
Voice pitched low, struggling not to laugh, Stiles intones: ] M’lord.
[ He holds the position for all of three seconds before he’s cackling, teetering side to side as the extra appendages struggle to keep him balanced through his hysterics. ]
no subject
Voice pitched low, struggling not to laugh, Stiles intones: ] M’lord.
[ He holds the position for all of three seconds before he’s cackling, teetering side to side as the extra appendages struggle to keep him balanced through his hysterics. ]