"Okay." He reaches for one of her feet, closes his eyes, and concentrates on the magic sticking them on. The legs she's wearing were encapsulated very neatly, attached inexpertly - someone has more fun playing with transference than doing anything lasting with it - and -
He blinks.
"These are -" They don't have "cursed". "These are - bad magic legs."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-06-20 05:48 pm (UTC)He blinks.
"These are -" They don't have "cursed". "These are - bad magic legs."