Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24123288-20150321160853/@comment-5543592-20150325013015

Dacian dropped his cloak on the floor and his crown on top of it. He kicked off his boots at the door. Before heading to the cupboard.

Upon opening it, he was hit with the smell of rotting fruits and vegetables.

"Gross." He muttered, settling for his sustaining products, like weables.

He approached Kay with a suppressed simile on his face. He held out a weable in each hand. One of them was successfully bigger than the other, which was small and was cracked in places.

"Kay, if you had to make a choice which weable would you choose?"