Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-30655593-20180107055645/@comment-30014014-20180616031217

"A poet? Nonsense" rebuts David, keeping his gaze away from the sleep-induced lady at his march's eve "I simply hold the tenant of my duty as an apothecary. Watching the terrain of my potential patients happens to be one of them".

HIs lantern flickers like a flame, washed in a light green in response to his own mana, subtly raised with increased activity following his automatous march, but soon to return to a passive gestation with the end of his voice.