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Literature
Lost our summer fun
How I love the summer flair,
crisp of sunny noon,
warm today that stage to dare,
like winds of monsoon.
Close to feel the clouds that gain,
wrap the shrouded sun.
As weather turned, filled with pain,
Lost our joyous fun.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 2 0
Literature
On Summer's day
On summer's day of golden light,
On endless blue above in sight.
On waves of heat that turn us all
And lay to sleep till dawn of fall.
For here present the day of flight
On summer’s day of golden light,
Embrace by wind that blew your face
And walk upon this worldly trace.
The hour to live and live to be,
Against the heat this urge to see.
On summer’s day of golden light,
That we shall rise to play and fight.
Oh joyous sun, let light be long,
Be fierce to bring those worthy strong.
And close to end this season might
On summer’s day of golden light.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 3 5
Literature
Life is a Fleeting Moment
What was life beneath mortal graves?
What turns from chance and price to brave?
When some of those that slumber the dark
To live once more that faded spark.
And witness the fall, once that crave.
What was life beneath mortal graves?
It is a fleeting of moment,
Of the dead's forever torment,
When all such glimpse of lives today,
Tomorrow breeds of bleakest days.
What was life beneath mortal graves?
When chance but slip of the deprave.
Brother of death that come at fold,
Take the weak or strong, young or old.
For life but precious gift to save.
What was life beneath mortal graves?
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 2 0
Literature
Remnant of Iron - Chapter 9: The Declared
The Stone Circle, Deep in the Dark Forest
The eerie silence in the dark woods was a clear message, a momentary relief for the men to exit the area safely. The plagued beasts that they slew remained as they were, lifeless and still that reek of a noxious odour that send a few to vomit. The signs of the rot were notable, easily to describe of their striped purplish veins, and their eyes paled of orb white.
Valeran dared to glance at the dead, and a cold chill ran beneath his spine. While the Partishan, such as himself, were immune to such diseases, the regulars were not entirely in the case. There was a bit of worry inside of the Partishan as he wondered if the survivors were exposed to the corruption. If that were the case, then he feared that the expedition had failed and that he had no choice but to kill the survivors in sight.
Valeran stride toward to the canine doctor in a slow, but steady pace, his feet heavily stomped on the ground. Questions began to form in his head upon the man
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 1 0
Literature
Anger
Rage dug deep of foolish shell,
There that burn beat the beast to fail
Long inflict within the pyres of hell.
Far reach seep from words that fell,
Shattered bond, coursed don, by tale.
Rage dug deep of foolish shell.
Eyes blurred sight that guide and meld.
Marred by viscous, voracious pale,
Long inflict within the pyres of hell.
For when that cage of love in cell,
No longer grace by wind or vale.
Rage dug deep of foolish shell.
Smite what wrought now fall from well,
Sick and sicker, be damned prevail,
Long inflict within the pyres of hell
Till turn taught tragic torn to tell,
And loathe from empty, screech to wail.
Rage dug deep of foolish shell,
Long inflict within the pyres of hell.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 0 0
Literature
Remnant of Iron - Chapter 8: The Cornered
The Cornered
Lucky Foot Tavern, Blueberry Town
The tavern was calm and quiet in the middle of the night. Customers that come on a regular spree were returned to their homes and young travellers from far away lands were sent to their bed, dreaming of riches and adventure.The only folk that were still up late was a mouse barkeeper, a couple of tired barmaids and two guests that were sitting by the fireplace.
Amion was not a man who could hold on to his drink. He had tried alcohol beverage before which resulted from him in a mad and wild case of stupor. Such high volumes of consumption would make him feel tipsy, erratic in a petulant behaviour that was enough to make him swore that he would never drink again. Instead of ordering the finest drinks in the tavern, he decided to order something that has been growing as an obsession to him. He called out for bubble tea.
It had taken several idle banter of drinks to break the awkward tension that was forming the two. Neither of them, a rat and
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 0 0
Literature
Beginning
Open gaze to the universe,
Open mind shift like words and verse.
It set our song from start of life,
And face beyond the future rife.
Walk on two, graze to stand the worse
Open mind shift like words and verse.
The youth shall gaze to which the world,
And learn to seek where darkness hurled.
Bare between beyond basket breath,
Dare demands duty delve don death
Open mind shift like words and verse,
That soon may crawl that seep like curse
Yet here they face that cannot know,
The breach that tend of distant glow.
A deed of worth, constrict and pursed
Open mind shift like words and verse.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 8 5
Literature
The Red Knight: Realm of Grief - Chapter 1
The late afternoon was bleak and morbid. Air tasted of rusty copper and lead as artillery fire was nonstop in their barrage, focusing their effort to erase the Order in one fell swoop.
The residence that housed over a thousand innocent lives within the fortified fortress of Avis Rol was quick to abandon, leaving their homes in ablaze. Black smoke so thick that it drifted to the sky and covered the world like a sea of darkness. It was here, the remaining Knights of Burgundy made their last stand in hopes to bide more time for the civilians to escape. Their final acceptance against an enemy that they once called friend.
Given to them by the Emperor himself, Avis Rol was a stronghold of human achievement. Engineered since the founding days of the empire, the stronghold was a monumental feat of work that thought to be nearly indestructible. It stood tall and proud with walls made of white marble stone. Towers that stretched far and wide that no enemy would escape their sight. Its central k
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 0 0
Literature
Space
A time that once we set and soar the universe,
A time that forge beyond of space turn mattered worse
We rage the light that dies within we dwell
And face of worlds, countless hurls, within the course of hell.
For when we rise to see amaze through steel and ship,
To gaze the stars not of known and known to dip.
We chart our course and set an age stain with gold,
Covered bronze, littered silver, to once we hold.
Factions within fraction that split our race apart,
There what lied the bitter truth within our sacred heart.
Our mortal fear and desperate hear of greed and simple lust.
That turn against of former souls that long forget to trust.
War and death consume us whole the fate of galaxy,
We fight for deeds and wounded past the trace of humanity.
For when that fall this ceaseless scar that bore our fragile flesh,
Hope shall bloom to set the wise to brave and start afresh.
We turn the tools, that make us fools, embrace of endless peace.
We break the chain of ghostly pain the fear that fa
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 5 2
Literature
Willow's Garden
Refrain:
There in the highlight of garden;
Bloom the willow of tree.
Tall as high that cover the sun
Loom all below to be.
(I)
From gale and leaves that tend and ease;
Five wise souls in the shade.
Yet one stand out her hand on harp.
A tune and song was made.
(II)
She strum the string with graceful sound
Her heart poured out to one
The rest of four paid heed her act
And silence claimed the sun.
(Refrain)
(III)
Her hand that bring of hope and life
That turn to tragic song.
Flash of past that brought her here
And those that fell from wrong.
(IV)
The silent sleep from death and flame
All she love to the grave.
Alone and lost, the last of kind
The world turn cold deprave.
(V)
On countless rise of season moon,
Filled with power and lore.
Yet days of fun and jokes were gone,
Now flawless evermore.
(Refrain)
Yet once the harp that strum no more;
The four stood silent still.
They not of heard her voice in pain,
Lament with guilt that fill.
And so have dealt the tale to tell,
The fair, the grac
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 4 0
Literature
King
Brightest
Oldest
Wisest
Kindest
Hail to the Brightest, Oldest we sing
Our song to the Wisest, Kindest king.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 5 0
Literature
Defiant of Hope
Brightest, fiercest souls; defiant to the end,
Blindest, hardest minds refuse to give and quit.
These were the deeds that made of great, former men.
In youth, fiery heart set hot and alit;
Passion drove those chosen few that spark their flame,
Where they soar like birds from their dark, blacken pit.
Some born from prestigious wealth, nobles of fame;
High and clouded, warped by their own selfish plight
Though some rose outright as champions of the game.
Some were forged deep from the empty, narrow light,
Where no hope or faith reach to their fearful heart,
And some rose to face with the courage of might.
These were the deeds that make the whole world start.
Here they shine as bright as the stars from apart.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 5 0
Literature
Rain and Wind
Tears
Mix Gale
Wildly Vale
Torn trees and home
Typhoon storm that roam.
Dressed warm with warmly coat
Walk through hell from far remote
And face the surge gone grown promote,
Pressing on through chance be cold and soak.
I dare to walk midst the violent choke;
And reach upon to my destination.
Among from friends to gain attention.
Sat on a chair near the fire
With hand to drink desire.
Fell from peaceful slumber,
Dream next of summer.
Cold fleet no more
From the core.
Life pass
On.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 1 0
Literature
Cheer and Raise
Cheer and raise to the fallen heart
And none depart,
Whose deed of war
Made legend soar.
Cheer to the living made out whole
Of pious soul,
Their deeds of life
In time of strife
Raise to the dead and remember
Of November,
Where those that fall
Turn up and tall.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 3 0
Literature
Those Creepy Eyes
Those creepy eyes that stare the dark,
Those lowly glow that light and mark
There reside to witness and gaze
There the window, bear soul like maze.
Brighten by the power imbue
Brighten as high as lantern view
For there that dwell where none can cast
For there within the mortal past.
And some may hide through glass or shade
And others shroud till vision fade
Yet few had hone such early stage,
Yet one who live of frozen age.
From flock who gaze with rage and fear,
From those that harm refuse to hear
Rest then made, unfortunate soul
Rest remain, nefarious role
What part may play to those that live?
What chance they too shall join and grieve?
Know such not where the end may lie
Know for sure, that all, shall defy.
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 5 0
Literature
To Little Dreamers
No matter how quaint you feel
The world revolve in place.
Defiant raven your zeal
Course that burn to trace
For the stage perform at best
Level the struggle to tune
How queer the lot may be
Held high among the rest
Taken chance of fortune boon
To seize make life with glee
Your eyes star gaze, little glow
Bear witness feign not hope
Rage, illuminate and grow
Stand out close on tragic slope
Dawn course this brittle wrath
Dare beyond shrouded tomb
Where fallen stance marred by fate
Against the blind and narrow path
For darkness linger and loom
In grand belief to negate
Mantle shard uncountable bond
Eclipse the lonely strand that build
Claim may break once then don
Of fragile gem, forever wield
For this the stone that bore in will
And all of wish catch to make
Shield in shadow, never release
Never share of others belief
They let you down, relentless break
And haunt your passion and peace
Take rise in break the end
Let loose the shout of war
Grandeur of irritable men
Wrapped inept and abhor
:iconCedric-Scorch:Cedric-Scorch
:iconcedric-scorch:Cedric-Scorch 5 2

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Cedric-Scorch
Edric L.
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Canada
An average person with a set for writing
Interests

Activity


How I love the summer flair,
crisp of sunny noon,
warm today that stage to dare,
like winds of monsoon.

Close to feel the clouds that gain,
wrap the shrouded sun.
As weather turned, filled with pain,
Lost our joyous fun.
Lost our summer fun
For when that day come close to breach,
The final grasp to sieze the day we reach.

==--==

7/5 Trochee

Meter: 7/5/7/5
Rhyme Scheme: a/b/c/b   or   a/b/a/b

The meter is trochee, which means alternating stressed and unstressed beats in each line, with each line beginning and ending in a stressed syllable. This is a simple lyrical type little poem, so rhymes will be basic, nothing fancy. The poem itself should give a description of something of interest to the poet. There is not a set number of these quatrain type stanzas, but a typical 7/5 Trochee would consist of two quatrains, with the second stanza serving to tie up the idea presented in the first stanza.

Take note, however, that this isn't a traditional style like villanelle or the quatrain, but rather a new style created by Andrea Dietrich. Give her the praise for the new style.
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On summer's day of golden light,
On endless blue above in sight.
On waves of heat that turn us all
And lay to sleep till dawn of fall.

For here present the day of flight
On summer’s day of golden light,
Embrace by wind that blew your face
And walk upon this worldly trace.

The hour to live and live to be,
Against the heat this urge to see.
On summer’s day of golden light,
That we shall rise to play and fight.

Oh joyous sun, let light be long,
Be fierce to bring those worthy strong.
And close to end this season might
On summer’s day of golden light.
On Summer's day
There in the wild, life formed to feel,
This relentless drive, this fiercely zeal.



Quatern

A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains. A quatern has eight syllables per line. It does not have to be iambic or follow a set rhyme scheme.

line 1
line 2
line 3
line 4

line 5
line 6 (line 1)
line 7
line 8

line 9
line 10
line 11 (line 1)
line 12

line 13
line 14
line 15
line 16 (line 1)
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...for a moment...
What was life beneath mortal graves?
What turns from chance and price to brave?
When some of those that slumber the dark
To live once more that faded spark.

And witness the fall, once that crave.
What was life beneath mortal graves?
It is a fleeting of moment,
Of the dead's forever torment,

When all such glimpse of lives today,
Tomorrow breeds of bleakest days.
What was life beneath mortal graves?
When chance but slip of the deprave.


Brother of death that come at fold,
Take the weak or strong, young or old.
For life but precious gift to save.
What was life beneath mortal graves?
Life is a Fleeting Moment
For memories turn of ashes and dust,
And friends so dear are worth more to trust.

==--==

Quatern

A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains. A quatern has eight syllables per line. It does not have to be iambic or follow a set rhyme scheme.

line 1
line 2
line 3
line 4

line 5
line 6 (line 1)
line 7
line 8

line 9
line 10
line 11 (line 1)
line 12

line 13
line 14
line 15
line 16 (line 1)

==--==

I am back.
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The Stone Circle, Deep in the Dark Forest

The eerie silence in the dark woods was a clear message, a momentary relief for the men to exit the area safely. The plagued beasts that they slew remained as they were, lifeless and still that reek of a noxious odour that send a few to vomit. The signs of the rot were notable, easily to describe of their striped purplish veins, and their eyes paled of orb white.

Valeran dared to glance at the dead, and a cold chill ran beneath his spine. While the Partishan, such as himself, were immune to such diseases, the regulars were not entirely in the case. There was a bit of worry inside of the Partishan as he wondered if the survivors were exposed to the corruption. If that were the case, then he feared that the expedition had failed and that he had no choice but to kill the survivors in sight.

Valeran stride toward to the canine doctor in a slow, but steady pace, his feet heavily stomped on the ground. Questions began to form in his head upon the many possibilities about the world. Although the blood ritual would serve as an option to extract information on the local inhabitants, he hoped to refrain from such practice. Its result was quite overall efficient, but turning bright minds into drooling halfwits had left a distaste in his mouth.

The Partishan was inches close to the doctor, able to spectate the performance that was underway. With keen observation, he had come to admire its talent. Its wrapped, bandage paws worked on the patient with an elegant poise that told years of experience and the knowledge of anatomy.

The canine, with black pearled eyes, took a momentary glance back at the massive character in white armour before turned focus to its patient. It then quickly pointed at the satchel.

"Do you mind fetch me a bottle of laudanum?" Its voice had a rough tone that suggested the canine to be male. He sniffed and wiggled his nose as if about to sneeze but manage to hold it off. “You can't miss it. Small bottle. Reddish-brown glass with a black cork on top.

Valeran glanced at the brown handbag then back to the dog with a raised eyebrow. It was clear that he hadn't met a Partishan before. Nevertheless, he did what the doctor told and leaned down to check the contents of the bag.

The satchel inside was meticulous, placed neat and proper that was easy for Valeran to spot the bottle. There were several notable herbs and remedies of some kind, but unable to tell the purpose of its use.

The canine doctor took notice of the strange armoured man handing out the laudanum. He took the bottle from his hand and gave an appreciative nod.

“Hmm, since you give me the right one in your first try I take it you understand what I am saying?”

Valeran gradually removed his helmet to reveal a paled man with blue eyes and a bald scalp. “Are you the one that I must give thanks for tending to the prisoners?”.

The canine smiled and chuckled, quite surprised at the question. “I did little much,” the canine turned around to meet eye contact. “Although I wish I could save the others. The wolves weren’t as cooperative as I thought it would be. They aren’t the friendly lot. Say would you mind as to help me out with this patient? I take it you have some knowledge of medicine.”

Truthfully, Valeran had little knowledge when it comes to healing the sick and the injured. The Partishans were more focused on killing people. He sat on the opposite side of the doctor and followed his instruction, careful of not making any mistake.

The patient that they were on the progress was a critter, a squirrel, coated in light brownish fur. It had a chubby, but a feminine look with long bushy tail at the end. Valeran noticed the dried bloodstains of the squirrel's outfit, originating from the right side of her stomach.

“Poor little thing,” The canine sighed. “After all of my years of travelling, I have never met a reckless character like her,” He popped out a cork from the laudanum and poured on a clean sheet of cloth. “Lift her up, would ya? Need to press this on the wound.”

Valeran gently pulled the squirrel to his side, revealing a large wound that was about the size of his thumb. The canine quickly pressed the soaked cloth into the wound as the squirrel squirmed in response to its painful sting.

After several minutes of bandaging and stopping the wound from further bleeding, the canine placed his tools aside and sighed with relief.

“There, all done,” He said, cutting the loose bandages with a scissor. “You have my thanks, stranger. It would have taken much longer if not for your help.”

Valeran smiled and nodded. It was the least he could do. He was sort of overjoyed that the squirrel was recovering and suspected that she would survive in the long run. Yet while he was in the state of gladness, gradually, his mood shifted into a serious look.

“Doctor,” He said with a firm tone. “As much as I am the bearer of bad news, I must ask you something about what we saw at the outpost.”

The canine reacted neutrally, bearing no sign of emotion, looking up to the starless night a moment before he turned to face Valeran with a weak smile. “The crow is called a Bane,” He declared. “And it is a terrible creature. Why do you want to need to know?”

“The same like you, doctor,” Valeran stood up to his feet. “To survive, your knowledge of this…Bane…is worth more than anything at the moment, and I would very much like to know how to kill it.”

“Kill it?” The canine burst out into laughter, shaking his head. “My paled friend, the chances for you to slay a Bane is slim to none, but since you killed those things outside,” He glanced at the fallen plagued animals. “What will you do with us once this is done?”

Valeran paused in a moment to answer as he adjusted back on the helmet. “Not to worry, doctor. After a long observation on your work, I can say you are more useful to me alive than dead,” He coldly declared. “That is said, I haven’t been wholly convinced by your squirrel friend.”

The canine watched the armoured man lift the squirrel with one arm, cradling her as if she was an infant. A cold fear ran all over his face. “Please, I beg of you. Spare her. She has done nothing wrong.”

“Ah, but you are correct on that part. This squirrel hasn’t done anything wrong. Yet.” Valeran wiped gently of the smudge from her cheeks with a napkin. A napkin that had little traces of her blood. “I assume you are going to tell me about her crimes in the past and that she is in league with a group of unsavoury characters.”

The canine was shocked, dumbfounded as he hadn’t told the man about the squirrel’s past.

Valeran sighed. “I like you, doctor. You remind me of an old man that used to help the sick and the helpless, always ready to give it all for the greater good. He was a good man until the end.” He leaned closer to the mutt, his eyes glowed behind the helmet. “I wonder if you will serve the same fate as he did?”

The canine understood right at the instant that the man who had come to help wasn’t a likeable sort. He remained in utter silent, unable to form any words that came out from his mouth as the man motioned his free hand to reach for his weapon.

“Come along, doctor. We have much business to discuss.” Valeran turned around to proceed to the exit. “You’re expertise is much needed at the moment.”

It was kinda fortunate that Valeran had his helmet on. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel guilty about it. While the man was good with threats and blackmail, he had no intention to harm the two or to make them suffer. If he wanted to kill them, he would have done it at the spot not too long ago, but instead played a different role as a supportive kind. He tried to help.

“I-I thought you were a man of reason?” The canine finally spoke, shivering with fear. There was a disgusted look on his face. The one who had no other choice but to give in to the man’s demand.

Valeran stopped in his track and glanced back to the canine. Once more, he paused in a moment of silence. “I am a reasonable man, Ruffcoat,” He said as his eyes still glowed eerily of blue. “I am the only reasonable thing that you've got.”

====----====


Somewhere over the Mountain

The rustles of the prisoners’ chains were bound tightly together, hands restricted to resist their would-be wardens. They marched onward in the snowy landscape, forced to travel under terrible condition. Without any suitable wear to combat the cold, it didn't take long before they fell one by one. Out of the ten, only five were left to endure. The youngest of the batch, Ewin, was the latest victim to the weather.

Among the first to be in line was Ulfric Spiel, an average soldier wearing a dark yellow-green uniform. Spiel was the last of the unit, the Grosbeak company, or might be considering that he hadn't seen anyone else wearing his type of outfit. The four that were behind him belonged to their respective company. Two Bluejays, a Black Swan and a Nutcracker.

Spiel had lost count since their departure from the outpost. The Grosbeak soldier felt tired, eyes grew heavy and feet and hands stung by the ice. Exhaustion had taken over the men after their descent from the mountain. Its rugged terrain of sharp rocks and slippery ice was arduous, dangerous to cross from its steep cliffs. The wolves, overseers and executioners, cared little and, in their sadistic nature made their life a nightmare. Unable to communicate between different language, the prisoners remained obedient to the wolves, biding their time for a chance to strike. Yet the opportunity to succeed was slim at best as the wolves were well aware of their little rebellion.

Not long ago, two soldiers from the company, the Silver Condors, made the first move, striking at an unsuspected wolf. Sadly, the two were killed in an instant. The wolf that the soldiers targeted had a small figure than the rest of its kind, with a grey-white shade of fur and yellow eyes. The soldiers that thought they could overpower fell by the edge of the wolf's blade.

The trip to the cold and desolate wasteland was miles and miles without end. The landscape littered with snow and ice from as far as Spiel could lay his eyes upon. He felt uneasy, concerned about the whole ordeal. He was quite unsure of what would happen once they reached the end of the destination. Would the wolves force them to serve as mere slaves or be meals to the slaughter? Whatever the result, Spiel wasn't confident on either the two.

From the snow-covered plains, the trip came to a sudden halt when a giant and brutish wolf with one right eye hollered out something to its pack. The pack, who heed at its command, went off into separate direction, leaving a couple to guard the prisoners. One of them was the small wolf.

The prisoners sat at the edge of the frozen lake, huddled close together in a desperate attempt for warmth. Spiel didn't felt like to discuss plans of escape with the rest of his comrades. He was cold and tired and wanted to sleep. He was getting drowsy. He could hear a faint echo from one of the soldiers, trying to force him to stay awake. But he wouldn't listen, wouldn't be able to hold much longer. He fell sideways on the ground like a ragdoll, his face splattered against the snow. With tired eyes, the last thing before he passed out was the comrades that were beside him and the small wolf with a cold, yellowish gaze.

At long last, Spiel had earned his rest. He was coming home.
Remnant of Iron - Chapter 9: The Declared
Valeran the Partishan have decided to have a chat with a certain doctor; the prisoners travelled among the wolves to an unknowable destination.


Note:
It has been too long. But I am not dead yet.
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...for a moment...

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:iconmercenaryblade:
MercenaryBlade Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
A fine birthday wish to you!
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:iconcedric-scorch:
Cedric-Scorch Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks! :)
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:iconthieviusracoonus:
thieviusracoonus Featured By Owner Dec 13, 2017
Thanks for the llama.
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:iconcedric-scorch:
Cedric-Scorch Featured By Owner Dec 13, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
:iconmnrthumbsupplz: 
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:iconbunnywappet:
Bunnywappet Featured By Owner May 23, 2017
Hi. I've been watching your captivating YT channel since the very beginning and silly me just discovered your account here , keep up the amazing work .
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:iconcedric-scorch:
Cedric-Scorch Featured By Owner May 25, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
I thank you for the compliment. :)
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:iconmercenaryblade:
MercenaryBlade Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Happy Birthday!!!
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:iconcedric-scorch:
Cedric-Scorch Featured By Owner Mar 7, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Making a late reply: Thank you :)
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:iconmercenaryblade:
MercenaryBlade Featured By Owner Mar 7, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! Thanks for the watch btw!
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:iconmercenaryblade:
MercenaryBlade Featured By Owner May 21, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank for the fave!
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