A warm place of hiding, in reality, this is where the clown must be going. Taking steps back, he looks toward the path, distant down for which possess a light glowing. The clown has killed him while he looks on in confidence, but great confusion.
#Dead realm clown cracked
Not moving as Zobo walks closer toward the troll, but to witness so much blood from his head, it seems that the clown has accidentally cracked the troll's crumpet, seeming that death has come at such lights of motion. I apologise for my rudeness, but I will not be buried upon this night, even though it feels so, so lovely for the motions of my warm oddity." I like to voyage, drink, play music, and, well drink.
Do trolls sing songs of booze? My name is Zobo by the way. "What have you done?" Yelled the beast, falling toward the light while then joining snow follows to caress earth in fondly manners of morrow. Of the glowing eyes, hitting such head completely, causing a bit of delirium at such state he did not see. Dig yourself, you loud singing clueless hound ball." Yelled the clown, throwing his bottle into the shadows You want me to dig a grave? Why not you know this name I possess? Reveal yourself, as I will not compose any movement for the bastard that you are. Looking oddly, but grasps shovel to then begin digging through solid near ice, greatly most of unimaginable strength. Within roar bursting mind, a shovel is thrown upon the frozen landscape to then dig be the clown. "Dig I not, but truth rupture in need, have this shovel to claim your coffin whisper. "More booze to make this wagon roll, roll again, you dig?" Clown speak, in smiles, while taking drops left over from his bottle, locking so in dark winds of follow. "You ridiculous fool! What emerge you belief that I shall let you pass just to consume your poison fully? Have you had your fill?" Irritated voice deep in tone wish for the ashes to soon claim his loud body repeating again and again. Locate for me, why don't you? Help a poor drunk clown find his mommy booze?" I am just but a drunk clown looking for that of another pub.
"I want to pass through your land without harm or reason to puncture false tides. I am the elder creature who allow timid limbs to pass, but only in reasons of good eyes, you see?" "Redness of rudeness we rupture while minds voyage further. "What be this sound that claim frozen moments in haunting region?" Speak clown, wishing voice to step out and reveal themselves accordingly. What emerge your presence in my valley? What brings you here to disturb my land?" Voice spoke, only to reveal purple eyes in shimmering darkness, but presence of creature still of the unknown. "Good evening, little human of the lost mirage I see. In with grass still as the cadavers that he walks over distant meters after meters so, a loud voice of deepened tone nearly rupture bark of elder trees of mourning, let alone the ear drums of the human body. Moss walls reveal an odd familiar tone, alone in feeling, but still looking. Held with hand be black gin of consumption, wandering clown, in passages, confused as always looking for answers. A beaten path red with stones carved hundreds of years emerge creature in thoughts, lost, looking for a placement in the arms of weak branches. Dark strange winds of tundra shiver, haunt this region, with tall birds wise hidden, foliage at steady claim toward the land, something of memory walks this way.
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