Max takes a deep breath, apparently greatly affronted by the casual disrespect just suffered by the laws of physics. The... suggestions of physics. But it's not, he reasons, a kind of violation he needs to be specifically concerned about right now.
"So... your magic lets you make things grow. That's what you do?"
He offers no attempt at conciliation. His posture is tense as he draws himself up onto a barstool.
no subject
"So... your magic lets you make things grow. That's what you do?"
He offers no attempt at conciliation. His posture is tense as he draws himself up onto a barstool.