* 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒎 .ᐟ

he 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗹𝗲𝗱 and he 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈 till the 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖘 rang .ᐟ written by # amalthea.

strumming his lute. does the reader have any requests?

did you know what the berries were before you … before you decided to —- citrine! it’s citrine!

it’s a new moon and he feels exhausted.

I don’t know, it’s usually in my pocket. it’s about this big and yellow and flat on one side and —- what did you eat?!

what? no, it’s my lucky —- did you eat something poisonous?

has anybody seen my citrine? ( 😩 )

he’s making spaghetti!

small smile as the offering is taken. hands go into his pockets, and he nods. “spring is on its way; those little guys are a good indicator.”

there’s a patch growing near his campsite! he once more offers the little flower with a smile. short stemmed, purple with a yellow center.

thea.xn--6ii weenie

head hurts. no energy. kind of woozy. life isn’t worth living. may as well have storm clouds hovering overhead.