(Untitled)

[apollinares]

There is dust on his face, in his eyes, in his hair, on his clothing.

(He's spent the past months roaming.
I will remember and not be unmindful of Apollo who shoots afar.No destination in mind, no end in sight.
As he goes through the house of Zeus, the gods tremble before him and all spring up from their seats when he draws near, as he bends his

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[thatinyourpipe]

Pan stretched as he emerged from the trees, and shook himself off. What a glorious rest. He even gave each hoof a little shake before stepping, listening to the crunch of fallen leaves.

Never really cared for the winter, he was always about the spring.

The faun's steps paused upon a familiar sight.

Damn. He's back. He debated saying anything.

"Surprised to see you back here." Well that's civil enough for him. Granted the music contest was ages upon ages ago, but still stings from time to time.