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| Hildy giggled at her pumpkin head... |
The large, shadow-infused Omkrit was the huffing color of a
deep summer midnight. His protectiveness contradicted his protests. Of the
troika of demons at her amateurish disposal, he was her favorite. He was enslaved by all manner of
sorcerers, but Hildy was unique. When the others died, he slipped away until
summoned forth anew. She giggled as braids twirled, or spells twisted, “Oh
dearie me, Ommie, oh! No! Look! Another one got away! She would yell whenever a
beastie got the upper-hand of her mucky spells. Hildy needed him, and woe to
those who would hurt her. She was safe.
I know, my Warlocks love their Voidwalkers, it's a pity there's not a real life equivalent.
ReplyDeleteI like the blueberries but there is something about doom guards as well...
ReplyDeleteI just hear all kinds of funny stories in my head when I think of giggly sweet Hildy and her succubus....just...well...haha! My warlock buddy called it a blueberry too yesterday, which made me smile. The Felguards are muy-macho!
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