And the final exercise from the last ISG meeting – I’m looking forward to the meeting tomorrow. Enjoy!

Thug, hoodie, relinquish (my sister’s word – as one of us pointed out, keeping it classy).

Jesper walked down the dark alley, eyeing the thug in the black hoodie walking
towards him, stubbornly unwilling to relinquish his right to walk at night. The
young man with the greedy glint in his eye began to wander closer to the middle
of the alley, and Jesper tried with all his mental power to convince the
unfortunate man to just pass him by. No such luck. With a movement that was
quick and graceful from too many hours spent practicing, the would-be mugger
pulled out a knife and waved it in what he thought was a threatening manner at
“Gimme your wallet!” the boy demanded.
Jesper tried to think of another way to do this, but the kid had asked for it.
“No,” Jesper replied calmly, his nonchalant manner calculated to irritate his
It worked perfectly. The mugger stepped towards him, knife up at a dangerous
angle, and was now close enough for Jesper to grasp. He used a light touch, his
fingers closing around the kid’s wrist with a whisper, hardly any pressure
brought to bear on his flesh, but it was all Jesper needed. The will went out of
the criminal young man, his face going slack, his eyes blank. It only took a
moment for Jesper to drain the body of the curious life force that propelled it
through time towards the nebulous goal of the future and an eventual death. When
Jesper removed his fingers, the body slumped to the ground, the knife clattering
sharply on the cement, and Jesper walked on, feeling invigorated.


❤ DragonBeck


Hunter and Hunted

The third (of four) exercises of the last Ink Slingers Guild meeting – we are really getting very good at these!

Clean, spray, speculate

She stood, starting at the bloody floor, speculating on how best to clean it. It
would’ve been easier if he’d done it correctly, she lamented. But he’d missed
the first time, and the creature had gotten away, dragging itself halfway across
the room with pitiful yowls before he’d gotten himself together enough to finish
off the job. The fact that it had been days and the blood had dried on didn’t
help either, she continued her morose train of thought. It would have been so
easy the night it had happened, a quick spray of water, and it would send the
blood rushing away. Now she was going to have to scrub, and she was exhausted
just thinking about it. She dragged herself over to the sink, and picked up the
wire brush. Staring at it for a long time, she tried to think of another way, an
easier way. You could just leave it, a little voice whispered. No, she shook her
head. It would start to smell after a while. It had already begun to smell. It
would attract the others, and then everything would go from bad to worse. It was
hard enough to defend her territory without purposely bringing others sniffing
around. Just as she was about to set upon the floor, a scrabbling sound from the
back of the broken down little cabin brought her hackles up, ears twitching
madly. For a brief moment she had the hope that it was just a branch brushing
the roof from a breathe of wind, but little whines of excitement told her it was
more sinister than a tree.

❤ DragonBeck

A look at 2016…

While 2017 is loading, I’m going to take a moment to have at 2016, and what I said I would get done (as delineated in my New Year’s Resolutions blog post):

1. Take over the world. (This is in progress, will update later, because you know what they say: if I told you…)

2. Smile a lot. ✓

3. Drink lots of coffee. ✓

4. Publish a novel. ✓ (and ✓ – I published two, Ria’s Mark and Omens, available on Amazon.)
GOTP_FirstMagyc_eBook_Final_Sm ria's mark omens_ebk_sm-2

5. Get my ISG anthology story in by the deadline. ✓

6. Write some Stories My Friends Started. ✓ (and you can read them here.)

7. Maybe publish two novels. ✓ (…what I said back there.)

8. Find and tame a dragon. (also I/P)

9. Travel the world a-dragonback. (See #8.)

10. Make magic. ✓

11. Write, every day. (Sort of every day. I wrote every day in spirit, so ✓.)

12. Read, when I get the chance. ✓✓ (I read a lot this year, Harry Potter #1, #2, #3, #4, and #5, and the Sword of Truth #3, #4, and #5. Highly recommend them all.)

13. Be awesome, always. ✓ ✓ ✓

14. Spread the awesomeness. ✓ (In the form of love, smiles, and cookies, @AuthorELance, @InkSligners2011.)

15. Treat myself once in a while. ✓ (I went to the movies, ate some chocolate, took a long, relaxing bath.)

16. See Star Wars. ✓ (first thing I got done, documented here.)

17. Try some new recipes. ✓ (Sneaked that in right at the last minute: I made white chocolate macadamia cookies for the first time yesterday 😉 )

18. Make new friends. ✓ (Irina, Brandon, Spencer, Gen, Jessica, Sally, to name a few.)

19. Eat good food. ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ (there are not enough ticks that I could put next to this.)

20. and chocolate! ✓ ✓ ✓

21. Do my part to help make the world a better place, before or after taking it over is fine. (I’d like to think my existence contributed positively to the world and the lives of at least some of the people in it, so ✓.)


Whew! That was a year –  and not that bad, really. I still have to find my dragon, but that was a pretty stiff target.

I hope everyone got to put at least a few ✓ ✓ ✓ on their list of conquests, resolutions, to-do list, or bucket list.

Now, I can’t just rest on my laurels, got to get started on my New Year’s Resolutions for 2017…stay tuned  for that 🙂

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the parties, toast to something worthwhile, and kiss the person of your dreams at midnight! For auld lang syne, peace and love,

❤ ❤ DragonBeck

The Translator

The last ISG meeting was a load of fun, as usual. The table is getting too small – there was hardly enough room for my treats amongst the tea pot, the cups, and all the computers. But we managed somehow 🙂

Many great things are on the horizon as this year draws to a close (it’s the middle of November already!! Yikes!) and a new one opens before us. Most of it involves copious quantities of writing, so my news may be scarce and scrawny. Bear with me, and it will be worth it, I promise.

Here are the writing exercise from the meeting. A continuance was in order, as you’ll see. Enjoy!


silky, petrify (my word), microwave,

Put under a red moon in the microwave door to the best silky. Beil looked down, and squinted at what he had just read. The others were staring at him with uncertain expressions.

“What was that?” Heidi asked, a polite frown on her face.

Haam was a more direct. “Are you sure you translated that correctly?” he demanded. “Give that to me.”

The much bigger man snatched the paper from Beil, who stood as if petrified. Beil watched Haam glare at the message, challenging it with his bright blue eyes to give up its secrets. One day, Beil told himself in a furious but silent voice, one day I’m going to prove that I’m of some use to this expedition.

He glanced around at the others in the group, and tried not to feel inferior and worthless. Heidi was a magnificent witch, whose spells could protect the whole group even if they were under goblin attack. Haam was the best warrior in the six realms, and was proficient in the sword, bow, and hammer, all of which he carried on his person. There was Dorn, the tracker, Yelda, the seer, and Jaim, the Guardian of the Talisman.

Then there was Beil, of no great talent and no apparent value. __________________________________________

dictator, roam, apple

Beil watched Haam continue to glare at the paper, feeling more and more irritated at the whole world as the big man just stood there without saying a word. Beil was more scared of Haam than he would be of any cruel dictator, but if this continued, they would be standing here for the next three days as the warrior refused to give in and refused to grant quarter.

“Um, Haam?” Beil stepped forward in timid steps. “I’ve had an idea…”

He stopped suddenly, starting at Haam. Beil expected the man’s eyes to be be roaming the paper, searching for clues in the writing, but they were fixed, glassy, and blank. A lump the size of an apple obstructed anything but a soft gurgle coming from Beil, but his terrified look and shaking finger alerted the others to the problem.

A scuffle ensued as Dorn and Jaim attempted to wrestle the paper from Haam’s frozen fingers, and Heidi cast spells of protection and exorcism, all to no avail. Somehow, in the middle of the ruckus, Beil managed to wriggle through and snatch the paper from the bigger man. At once the spell was broken, but it took a while for them to notice Haam was now fine, and that Beil was holding the paper.

“You shouldn’t be touching that,” Heidi warned. “And don’t look at it.”

“He’s fine,” Haam frowned. “And he was trying to read it for a very long time before.”

Despite the insult, Beil felt a sense of satisfaction. At last, some use.


I’ve still got a few more sneak peeks lined up for book III of the Guardians of the Path, Omens,  now avaialble for pre-sale on amazon, and I’ll try to keep up the updates, but I’ve got a lot of work to do. No rest for the wicked, you know 😉

Until then,

Rock on!

❤ DragonBeck

Cats and Ghosts, Monsters or Aliens

Hello there!

Time is moving along, as it does.

Hope everyone had an enjoyable All Hallow’s Eve  🙂

In just under a month, my third novel, Omens, will be published. I’ll be sending out another teaser in a few days here, and you can get the first two books in the Guardians of the Path series, First Magyc and Ria’s Mark on amazon.

In the meantime, here are the final two exercises from the last ISG meeting. Enjoy!


cat, room, phalanx

Jemma attempted to get past the phalanx of cats waiting to be fed, but she
almost tripped over one of them, and an ear-splitting yowl informed her that she
had stepped on a paw or a tail. “It’s your own bloody fault!” she muttered,
sliding her feet across the floor to minimize casualties, and somehow made it
across the room to the where their food was kept. The bowls on the bench all had
names on them, but it hadn’t taken more than a day for Jemma to give up on
trying to give the cats the right bowl. They knew which was there however, so
she filled them, set them on the floor, and the cats wandered through until they
found the right one.
“That’s not really normal behavior for cats,” Jemma said to herself as she
watched the animals feasting. “Though I suppose for a person to have this many
cats isn’t really normal either.” She counted again – her deepest fear as that
she would misplace one, or one would run out the door. How would she explain
that to Mrs. Black when she returned from her holiday in Romania? “Only three
more days to go,” Jemma said, crossing her arms and smiling. “I can keep it
together for that long.”
The room went oddly quiet and she looked down to find all seventeen pairs of
feline eyes fixed on her, with what look disconcertingly like knowing smiles on
their faces.
handle, alien, whimper (my word)

He reached for the handle and was about to touch the metal when a whimper from
behind him stayed his hand. He looked around, and saw that Robbie had followed
him up the stairs.
“I told you to wait outside,” Harvard said.
Robbie shook his head fiercely and ran to Harvard’s side.
“Fine, but stay behind me,” Harvard ordered.
He opened the door and peered into the old bedroom. It looked as if it had been
unused for many years, white sheets covered the furniture, and Harvard imagined
shapes that could be ghosts, monsters, or aliens lurking underneath them.
“She said it was in here,” he muttered to himself, gripping Robbie’s hand
tightly. He took a tentative step into the room, looking left and right and
trying not to pay attention to the feeling that was telling him something was
going to come leaping out at him any second now.
“It was supposed to be in a box, but I don’t see any boxes, do you?” Harvard
asked, looking down at Robbie.
The small boy gave the room a quick glance and pointed with his free hand.
There, under a mirror whose cover had half fallen off revealing the smudged
glass, was not a box but a wooden chest. Harvard started towards it when the lid
shuddered, and opened.


For more awesome stories you can get your copy of the Ink Slingers Guild’s fifth annual anthology Serenity Rising in paperback and ebook on 🙂

❤ DragonBeck


I think the word that most accurately describes the Ink Slingers Guild meeting of last week is “epicneas”.

(If epicneas wasn’t a word before, it is now.) We had four people attend for the first time!! Lisa made raspberry shortcake, and had the foresight to have the second pot of tea brewing before the first one was all gone. All four new members participated in our writing exercise and read them aloud, so they get a round of applause for that. Hopefully we’ll see them back again!

In honor of all the awesomeness, I’m going to put all the awesomeness of writing exercise here.

And the first one: I was very pleased with myself for getting all the words in one sentence – a feat Alanna also achieved  🙂

spirit, streak, horse

Hanna kicked at the ground, and shouted a few choice curses at the grey skies.
If she thought that was going to get her out of this in-between place, she was
wrong. Her spirit-horse had spooked and bolted, and the last Hanna had seen of
it was a pale streak across the sky, reminiscent of a shooting star from home.
Thinking about home just made her want to cry, so she refrained, concentrating
instead on what she knew about the incorporeal land she was crazy enough to
attempt to traverse. This was the land between here and now, and there and then.
It was foggy, cloudy in the way that forgotten memories were, and if one wasn’t
careful, one could get very lost in here. Hanna shoved that fear far out of
sight, and looked at where she had been stranded.
It was a flat place, with giant, craggy rocks jutting up like broken teeth.
Sometimes it looked almost solid, and other times it faded before her eyes. She
remained alert, ready to jump away at the first sign that the ground under her
was going, as she racked her mind for a solution. Then it came to her, on a
faraway whisper, appearing as the ghost of a house sheltered in the shadow of a
nearby rock.
Perhaps the creator of this bit of in-between would be able to get me out, Hanna
thought, starting for the house and hoping it didn’t disappear as quickly as it
had come.

On this one there was a brief discussion on what exactly was the definition of “honeypot” – I just decided it was easiest to use the literal one, mostly because I like honey.

honeypot, dark, exquisite,

For the first hour she wondered around the house, trying not to look too closely
at the dark gathering outside, blanketing the windows and hiding everything.
That didn’t take her mind off the fact that Josh was out there, in that, and
even if he called it an exquisite hub of magical energy, it was still dangerous.
So she boiled the kettle and made a cup of tea, emptied half the honeypot into
it, and went to sit in the loungeroom, moving the chair so she couldn’t see the
window. She was only halfway done with her tea when a frantic pounding at the
door made her scream and drop her cup. It shattered on the floor, and still she
sat frozen, the beating getting more desperate. The first rule of the dark kept
going around her head: Don’t open the doors, and don’t open the windows.
But this was the first time anything had ever tried to get in. Josh was a
brilliant wizard, and the wards he set up were strong. Nothing was going to get
past them, he had assured her. But the rule stands, just in case. The knocks
slowed, as if whatever was out there was losing stamina, growing weak from
exertion, or something else. There was a heavy thud against the door as
something fell into it, and a pleading scratch continued. She took deep breaths,
trying to calm her speeding heart, when a horrible thought occurred to her.
What if that was Josh outside, demanding to be let in?

At last, I got to put in a word – with so many people there, I thought maybe I was going to forego that honor in this meeting.

purge, lovely (my word), laser,

Flit looked down at his final school paper one last time. He was sure there was
something missing, or something extra, that was going to earn him a big, fat,
FAIL, in all uppercase letters, in blood red ink, or even actual blood, across
the top of the paper.
He tried to purge the thought, but it kept growing, morphing into something
nightmares were made of and panic threatened to overwhelm him. Calm down, Flit
told himself, and saw his hand was shaking, clenched around the paper and
crumpling the one edge. He straightened it on his desk while thinking lovely
thoughts and telling himself positive uplifting things, like just because Mrs. T
was a witch, didn’t actually mean she cooked and ate small children. She wasn’t
that bad. If nothing else, Flit’s story would look like magic epic tales when
compared to Nel the Troll’s paper, because Nel’s vocabulary was limited to a
dozen words.
Then Flit looked down again. His story was about lasers and machines and things
called combustion engines and scanning devices. Would Mrs. T accept such
fantasy? He groaned and fell forward into the desk. He was so going to flunk
out. He could feel it.


Hope you enjoyed that 🙂

Look for more exciting news about The Guardians of the Path, book III Omens coming soon!

❤ DragonBeck

Shout out to the Ink Slingers Guild

I want to take moment to tell a story about how I met some of the greatest people I have ever known.

I’ve been writing for about 12 years now. I sat down and wrote my first novel, longhand, on anything from to notebook paper, to flyers, to scraps of paper I found lying around and typed it into the computer on Saturdays, when I was fourteen years old (it was called The Three Mountains and the last time I looked at it, it needed some serious editing).

I have learned as a writer, you get these three questions.

1. What do you do? (or as a young person What would you like to do when you grow up?)

Writer: I write.

2. Oh, what do you write?

Writer: Fantasy (or genre of choice here).

3. Are you published?

Writer: …

I was mortally terrified of question #3, or more accurately, of the answer, which was an unfortunate “no”. In fact, I was so terrified that when I was  a younger writer, I would never tell people that I wrote.

I had the idea that I would like to go places with my writing, but I had no plan for that. Until I received a fateful text from my brother, telling me to talk to a woman he worked with. I recently went and found the first email I sent to her, on March 28, 2011 at 9:18 PM:

“Hi Lisa,
My name is Nicole.
I got your email address from my brother, (insert name), who works with you. He told me about this inksligersguild that he overheard you – or someone else at the office, I forget exactly which – talking about.
I checked out the website that he gave me, and it sounds awesome. I am a fiction writer myself and am very interested in finding out more about it!
If you could email me back with the details of what it is all about and what I would need to do to be a part of it, that would be really great.
Thanks very much,

Yes, I did refer to it as “this inkslingersguild”. Lisa still saw fit to invite me to attend a meeting, and so I went to my first ISG meeting on 13 April 2011. Thusly, I was introduced to, and  subsequently inducted into the Ink Slingers Guild.

The Ink Slingers Guild, as described on the website, “is a group of fiction writers that provide each other support, inspiration and the occasional kick in the arse.”

We are awesome.


(And we have matching shirts).

We get together every two weeks to go over our accomplishments (or conquests, if you want the real, insider lingo), check up on each other, and and get that kick in the arse, if required. Even if someone can’t come to the meeting for some reason or another, we make sure they get the words of the writing exercises, and there’s always Skype:


We support each other in our writerly endeavors, with feedback, beta-reading, proofreading, or providing emotional support when reading aloud in front of real, live people.

isg 2

(Like the time we went to read some Stories My Friends Started at Wordier Than Thou.)

Before the Ink Slingers, I had some talent, passion, and a secret dream. Now I have two novels published, multiple short stories in seven anthologies, and a group of awesome friends. I can honestly say joining the Ink Slingers Guild literally changed my life.

So here’s to Lisa,  Courtenay, Rhiannon, Alanna, Erika (and Dalia), Jen, and Desi:

I’d like to say you guys are magnificent, amazing, and wondrous, and I love you all!

❤ ❤ ❤ DragonBeck

Fugitives in the Forest

Hi there! 🙂

Firstly: update on the Guardians of the Path!! I’ve done the rewrites on book three and returned it to my lovely editor, so that’s moving along. I’ve been writing away on the first draft of book four – my goal is to get that done before line edits come back on book three, so: *fingers crossed* – oh, wait, no: *fingers flying furiously on the keyboard* 😉

And for a little Sunday reading enjoyment, here’s the last writing exercise from the ISG Skype meeting.


feather, light, swirl

The touch of the fairy was feather-light, but it was enough to bring him leaping
up, eyes blurred with sleep, stabbing the sword in the air in an uncoordinated
“You’re more likely to kill yourself if you keep doing that, than someone else,”
the tiny magical creature taunted, and floated away out of reach.
Harrison glared at it. Their relationship had been growing worse the longer they
had to hide out here in the Borderland Forest together. He didn’t know how much
longer he could last without trying to squash it. He did not deign to respond to
the insult. He settled down in the roots, and watched the leaves swirl down in
the gentle breeze.
It was going to get cold soon, and the first snow wasn’t that far off. The
homesickness bubbled up again, but he pushed it away. He wasn’t going to let the
fairy see him cry.
“How much longer do you think we have to wait here?” he asked instead.
The fairy considered. “Well, how long do you think that spell is going to take to wear
Harrison sighed. “A thousand years.”
“Well, I guess you answered your own question,” the fairy grumbled. “I just
don’t know how I got roped into this. I didn’t have anything to do with the
Harrison tried to think of a snide comeback, but his mind was blank. It was just
as well that he didn’t say anything, because in that moment, the sound of people
crashing through the trees reached his ears.


Talk to you soon!

❤ DragonBeck

Endless Wilderness

Greetings world!

We had a virtual meeting last week, Skyping in from all corners of the globe, or perhaps just the U.S. Thanks to Desi for hosting, and to Court for saying what needed to be said about how amazing it is that we, the Ink Slingers, have been together for almost six years now, and getting set to release our fifth annual anthology!! Which makes us pretty awesome.

Here’s the first writing exercise from the ISG meeting of last Wednesday. I think the last two words were from Jen and I, who were NOT at Desi’s house, which we may have been gently rebuked for.


cracker, distance, alone (my word)

Jake nibbled the last piece of cracker as he trekked across the harsh
wilderness. Yesterday his shoes had finally fallen apart completely, and he had
to leave them behind. His feet were not going to forgive him for a very long
time. His companions had all fallen away, a week ago, leaving him to stagger
alone in the hopes of making it back to civilization. He wouldn’t be able to
guess the distance he had covered, and he didn’t want to think about how much
farther he had to go.
He bit his finger and looked down at his hand. All that was left were three
small crumbs in the cracks of his palms. He licked them up, and all his food was
gone. He sighed, and looked around. The mountains to the left were unchanging,
and impassable.
I could go back, he thought. At least I know there’s something there.
Yes, a little voice reminded him. There’s a beautiful palace with hot running water,
servants dressed in silk and a pantry that could provide for a feast every day
of the year. It also is inhabited by the mad king who thinks you insulted him,
and is the reason you’re out here in the first place.
Jake sighed. The voice was right. He started trudging again, hanging onto the
hope he would run into something friendly soon.

❤ DragonBeck

Writers Meeting

We had our fortnightly meeting of the Ink Slingers this past Wednesday. Our lovey Commander In Chief and Den Mother was away, probably doing top secret things involving gargoyles in the mountains of Romania (otherwise known as the Transylvanian Alps) which look something like this:

romania mountain

(picture from this website:

– so we had a deputy Den Mother chair the meeting, who had the most amazing selection of tea I have ever seen outside of a grocery store. I usually have Bengal Spice, but I went for a different flavor this time, and opted for the blueberry tea. It was quite delicious, and the best part was I had my own personal tea pot, with a matching mug.

In other news, the Goodreads giveaway of First Magyc continues for another 6 days. Enter for a chance to win a signed copy here!

And the release of Book Two, Ria’s Mark is coming up on May 27 (less than 2 weeks away!!). I’m very excited 😀

And that brings us to the fruits of the meeting. Here are my exercises from the meeting – I think I alarmed Alanna with my sudden outburst of evil laughter between #1 and #2, when I found out the words the others had chosen, and realized that I could continue the story 😉

frustrated, specialize, peruse
(my word),

Tera continued her search, despite being increasingly frustrated. As the hours
stretched on, she began to be less and less discerning, until she was simply
perusing the shelves. In all the tomes and books and scrolls, the diary was not
Tera sighed, and pushed her hair out of her face. It was stuffy down here, the
stale air choking her with each breath. But she couldn’t give up now, not after
coming this far. She looked to the next shelf and her jaw dropped. It was there,
sitting there as if her mind had conjured it.
Tera reached out, her hand trembling, unsure if she should touch it. In every
field, there were those who specialized in certain elements of those fields.
When some one specialized further, in an element of an element of an element of
an element of a field of study or practice, either madness or mind-boggling
power resulted. The book before her now, held either.
Or both, she thought. Uncle Henry hadn’t been too lucid or normal in his last
few years. Perhaps it was better if she just left it where it was.

purse, shade, mirror,

Tera placed the large leather purse on the ground, then massaged her aching
shoulder. She had hiked into the woods so far it should be impossible for any
unsuspecting person to find her. But she knew how these things went, so she
hiked a few more miles just to be sure. It was probably her imagination, but the
diary was making that bag incredibly heavy.
After she had stretched out the tightness of her muscles, she began to pull out
the supplies she had carefully gathered. The mirror, the glass of shade,
summer’s last rose, and the other things the spell had specified.
Last of all she pulled out the diary. Though it was no thicker than her thumb,
it seemed one could turn pages forever without reaching the end. That was only
one of the things that made the diary hold no little terror for her. Still, she
had to do this.
She opened it to the page she had marked with a yellow sticker. The spell was
written in her uncle’s messy scrawl, but it was easy for her eyes to follow it.
She put the spell together, said the required words and waited for the spell to
take effect. When it did, it was nothing even close to what she had expected, or
mechanical, steam, buttons (my word),

Harry looked at the mechanical monster steaming and huffing in front of him.
“What do you think?!” Ole Timothy yelled, capering about in delight. He was
covered in grease and his hair stood on end. He looked like an enraged monkey.
“It’s lovely,” Harry said. “What is it?”
“I haven’t named it yet,” Old Timothy cackled. “I was thinking of calling it
“But what does it do?” Harry asked, having to raise his voice over the screech
of the thing’s gears and pistons.
“Oh, let me show you!”
Harry was already regretting his question when the thing started to move. It
lurched one way, then the other. The left foot went out, then back, and the
right foot repeated it. Harry moved his gaze between the metal monster and Ole
Timothy, who was controlling the thing with a flat panel covered with buttons
with strange symbols written on them. It took Harry a while to realize the thing
was dancing, or at least attempting to.
“That’s really great, Tim,” he said. “Really fine. I meant, does it do anything
Ole Timothy put down the remote and the monster fell still. The old man stepped
close to Harry, his eyes gleaming and a slightly manic grin pulling his face out
of proportion. “Useful? Useful, you say? Let me show you.”


Hope you enjoyed! See you sometime in the not too distant future,

❤ DragonBeck