(no subject)
They say in Ulgoland even the mice are dangerous. It's kind of like Australia, only with all the mistakes of the Gods instead of poisonous creatures, and all of the landscape is lumpy, pointy, or hollow if not all three.
Also? The winters are awful. Not that Belar cares; he's grinning like a nutcase as he comes in from the kind of mountains you only get in Ulgo (yeah, yeah, the Dalasian mountains are higher, but they're all the majestic, soaring, magnificent kind, not the GRR I EAT YOUR FACE NOW kind). He's got snow in his hair despite having the furred hood of his parka up, and he's carrying a package under one arm that bears a powerful resemblance to a pet carrier. "Hey," he calls out, "is Mary Lennox here? If she's not, no biggie, I can wait."
He could use some breakfast anyway.
Also? The winters are awful. Not that Belar cares; he's grinning like a nutcase as he comes in from the kind of mountains you only get in Ulgo (yeah, yeah, the Dalasian mountains are higher, but they're all the majestic, soaring, magnificent kind, not the GRR I EAT YOUR FACE NOW kind). He's got snow in his hair despite having the furred hood of his parka up, and he's carrying a package under one arm that bears a powerful resemblance to a pet carrier. "Hey," he calls out, "is Mary Lennox here? If she's not, no biggie, I can wait."
He could use some breakfast anyway.