So is life.
I'm going to finish it by this weekend or it'll kill me.
That is all. Here's a picture of a walrus. My favorite picture of a walrus.
And as a bonus, a quote.
“You mortals and your noise,” Grax grumbled, thumbing his drink with dissatisfaction. It had appeared shortly after Rook arrived; no barmaid had delivered it. “None of your gods ever cared for such a racket as this.”
“I heard Lantuna was quite fond of barroom jigs,” Rook said, taking a long drink. The ale was exceptional and cold, an oddity considering the inn lay on the border of a desert. “And Zander took to poetry in the last several decades of his life.”“Pah, all religious nonsense written up after we were all gone,” Grax waved his hand before returning to his melancholic drink poking. “It’s nothing but a mess of sound, and there’s enough of that in the world as is. If they wanted to hear people scream, why not go to the Maw, or stick each other with swords? That would be much more entertaining, not to mention real. Silly tunes just don’t compare to a good guttural choak, raw and unbridled. One’s a noise mortals are supposed to make, after all.”
- Effulgent Corruption, Minerva