Profile PHIM-054: Prisma

Prisma's claws dragged against the blackened ground of Hades, long tail swaying behind him. His ears remained drooped low, entire demeanor more lax than his mind. It had been months since he left Hades to wander the Elysium, not wanting to risk running into any loyalists to their beloved Weaver and getting into a fight. He had no weapon, not yet. It would be ugly if he only had his teeth and claws. He trudged towards a barely functional hut near a pile of stones and a broken trunk. Wit...

Annoying. How annoying. The Elysiphim glares up towards the blackened sky. It barely ever shined like he remembered, as if he had much to remember. His parents had been in Hades for as long as he knew, and he was doomed to fall himself. He figured that it was just what The Weaver had sewn for him, the strings were too faulty to mean anything good and this was the payment. How annoying. He rested his head on his paw and looked across the blackened land with his body outstretched and his...