User blog comment:Guildmaster Grovyle/JLE Role Play, Fall 2017/@comment-24422626-20171023013103


 * Kick keeps up the pressure until the bruiser slackens under her, then whips a set of zip ties around his hooves. She goes for the fallen shotgun—just in case.*

* Glaive looks into his own mug, rubbing it with his hooves.*

...Do you understand me?

Moraearty: In this state? Let me get him taken care of, and then I will release your mayfly.

* He holds a hoof over his chest and bows his head, smiling pleasantly as though there isn't a changeling passed out and bleeding to death in front of him.*

You have my word.