Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27049835-20180810031115/@comment-27049835-20180811012813

"Yes. Made out of Auric Tesla!" Yharim laughed.

Moira's ship lands in a grassy plains environment. She looks around. "Statis?" She calls out into the moth space, knowing that he will most likely not answer.

What has Mew.EXE been doing all this time instead of fighting?

Visiting the Sceptile's grave. Oh. Remember him from her backstory? It seems she still feels pain.