It has been some time since the last big feed. His constant reminders make me
aware of that.
I reassure him that it will not be long. That he must practice patience. When the
moon rises, then it will be time. I think he listens.
Something stirs in the streets. Lamentations, and netherworld growls. And there,
high in the night, a pale blood moon.
The night will be long, and beasts are plentiful. We can take our time here. We can
make it last.
So here we are, trudging home, the morning light glistening on the mess of blood and
sinew. The great sword has fed, and heartily so.
All Bloodborne. All the time.
What I listened to as I wrote this:
More Japanese podcasts.