It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Worse Lift

hiding from the rain

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

IWGD

much more tactility

13 | | | H | | | . . . . | . . . . | . . . . | . . . . | |

you cannot feed someone truth

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

magnetisation/form

your feed looks like my tumblr