MacConnell
Creator of The Untamed Wilds
Kwicker Delights
Saemund.
"Woohoo! I'm a Captain."
He runs at the chair where he could be sitting and does a one-armed handspring over it, using the back of the chair as a vault, landing in the mock bow of a stage performer.
Sylen.
"All right, Kwicker! You may look 14, but you are 43. Do not damage my furniture."
Kwicker rubs his hands together in front of him.
"Makes one nervous? Ha! Not a bead of perspiration, no dysfunctional motions, and no furtive glances. I am only 4' tall. You are a giant. I think I can take you."
He holds his hands flat out in front of him, palms down.
"Want to try me at a game of slaps. I will even let you go first."
Saemund.
Kwicker, who is still pacing about the room, albeit sans knife since Ghostwalker brought to his attention what he was doing, roars laughing....your Captain pacing about twirling his blade does make one nervous... (Saemund unconsciously moves his hand to his axe)
"Woohoo! I'm a Captain."
He runs at the chair where he could be sitting and does a one-armed handspring over it, using the back of the chair as a vault, landing in the mock bow of a stage performer.
Sylen.
"All right, Kwicker! You may look 14, but you are 43. Do not damage my furniture."
Kwicker rubs his hands together in front of him.
"Makes one nervous? Ha! Not a bead of perspiration, no dysfunctional motions, and no furtive glances. I am only 4' tall. You are a giant. I think I can take you."
He holds his hands flat out in front of him, palms down.
"Want to try me at a game of slaps. I will even let you go first."
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