(no subject)
It has never been clear to Mordred why his sister does the things she does; least of all why she can dismiss him and all his sex as useless one day, and insist the next that he look for something for her, yes, him, no, she can't go herself, she's busy, stupid.
Or so he tells himself, somewhat crossly, as he picks his way through the snowy woods south of the Mansion.
If he happens to run into siblings, or pseudo-siblings, or remoter cousins, or even God forbid offspring, he would probably be glad of the opportunity to complain.
Or so he tells himself, somewhat crossly, as he picks his way through the snowy woods south of the Mansion.
If he happens to run into siblings, or pseudo-siblings, or remoter cousins, or even God forbid offspring, he would probably be glad of the opportunity to complain.