Junk Scrap 1

The figure wore his usual garb of flying black curtains that draped to his ankles and beyond when not caught by wind. The air was dead and lifeless, so he stumbled. But still, Euao had not returned, and they were alone.

“Why do you wear that thing?” Mikie asked, wanting to help the dark one who was clearly struggling.

“Because I like my cloak, and my cloak likes me.” came his reply iced with a sudden and unexpected sharpness, as was to be expected of him more often than not. He overreacted to a lot of things.

“Sure doesn‘t act like it does.” returned Mikie with a laugh, watching helplessly as Zane tripped on it again and kicked another bucket over.

Zane hissed; at either both cloak and/or Keyboard Master was uncertain.