Separate names with a comma.
"Think I remember a changeling in plain sight at some wedding in Horseville," Asmo recalled.
(We can discuss the events all we want, Arch. PM me on Skype for a link to... oh. Thanks, Ridley.) "That is... actually awesome," Asmo admitted....
"You mean the one that didn't harm anypony and just wanted friends?" Dusty asked. Azrael tilted his head. "Wait, really? When was this?"
"I don't think I notoced," Asmo admitted.
Dusty frowned and looked down at the counter. Asmo cleared his throat. "Think this got too real for him..."
"You assume I would fail. Yes, clearly I am the fool."
"Terrifying," he said blandly.
"I could lay to rest a swarm with my bare hooves," Azrael boasted. "I am not concerned."
I'M THE CONDUCTOR OF THE POOP TRAIN!
Azrael shrugged. "Color me wrong. Still, I really would not want that on the floor." Dusty nodded. "One's reflexes tend to increase over the...
Asmo cackled. "Eating your babies!" Dusty conjured up a barrier between the dagger and Asmo's throat. "He's not a changeling, just a generic...
Asmo snickered, changing into a copy of Nova. "Haha! We have been discovered! But will it do you any good?" Dusty rolled his eyes.
Dusty nodded to the stool. He then answered Nova, "Your granddaughter, I believe. His name is Win... err... Windsor." Asmo shook his head. "Not a...
"Of course." Dusty opened the cellar and pulled out a very convenient, huge tankard with his magic. "I was merely thinking of the other customers...
Dusty tilted his head. "Certainly. Though it... may take a while to fill a container that large. Even with magic."
Asmo rolled his eyes. "Okay, Raiden."
Mystic represent!
This is me, currently with the last post.
"He did call him an it," said Asmo. "I mean, that's some pretty messed up, anti-draconic *squee!*. What the eff, Eduardo?" "I don't think he meant it...
"That is a he," Azrael corrected.
