#Ball Pens Manufacturer

[ballpens]

Ball Pen - Drift

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[poojalate]

Top 5 Reasons Why Ball Pens Are Perfect for Everyday Writing

Ball pen have long been a staple in our writing arsenals, and for good reason. Their practicality, reliability, and versatility make them ideal for everyday use. Whether you’re a student, professional, or simply someone who enjoys writing, ball pens offer a range of benefits that make them an excellent choice for daily tasks. Here are the top five reasons why ball pen are perfect for everyday writing.

 1. Durable and Long-Lasting

One of the standout features of ball pens is their durability. Made with robust materials like metal or high-quality plastic, ball pens are designed to withstand regular use without breaking or wearing down easily. This durability makes them a reliable tool for daily writing needs, whether you’re jotting down quick notes or signing important documents. The longevity of ball pens ensures that you get consistent performance over time, making them a cost-effective choice for everyday writing.

 2. Smooth and Consistent Ink Flow

Ball pens are renowned for their smooth ink flow, which translates to a pleasant and efficient writing experience. The ballpoint mechanism, which uses a tiny rotating ball to dispense ink onto the paper, ensures an even and consistent line. This smoothness reduces the effort needed to write and minimizes the risk of ink blotting or smudging. Whether you’re writing a shopping list or drafting a report, the smooth ink flow of a ball pen enhances writing efficiency and clarity.

 3. Versatile and Available in Various Tip Sizes

Ball pens are available in a wide range of tip sizes, from fine to bold, allowing you to choose the one that best suits your writing style and needs. Fine tips are great for detailed work and small handwriting, while medium and bold tips are ideal for those who prefer a more expressive line. This versatility makes ball pens suitable for a variety of writing tasks, from note-taking and drawing to official documents and correspondence.

 4. Convenient and Low Maintenance

Ball pens are incredibly convenient and require minimal maintenance. Unlike fountain pens, which need regular cleaning and refilling, ball pens are easy to use and maintain. Most ball pens come with a retractable or capped design that protects the ink and prevents leaks. Additionally, ball pens are typically disposable or have refillable cartridges, making it simple to replace or refill ink without fuss. This low-maintenance aspect makes ball pens an ideal choice for busy individuals who need a hassle-free writing tool.

 5. Affordable and Accessible

One of the biggest advantages of ball pens is their affordability. They are widely available at various price points, making them accessible to everyone. Whether you need a single pen for personal use or bulk pens for an office or classroom, ball pens offer a budget-friendly solution without compromising on quality. Their widespread availability in stores and online ensures that you can easily find the perfect ball pen to meet your needs.

 Conclusion: Embrace the Versatility of Ball Pens

Ball pens are a fantastic choice for everyday writing due to their durability, smooth ink flow, versatility, convenience, and affordability. Their ability to deliver reliable performance and ease of use makes them a go-to writing tool for countless tasks. Whether you’re signing documents, taking notes, or simply doodling, ball pens provide a dependable and enjoyable writing experience.

Embrace the practicality of ball pens and experience the benefits they bring to your daily writing routine.

[spartexscribbles]

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[gofordistributors]

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[modernvintage]

No but it really was so scandalous of Colin to pull Penelope off the dance floor at the ball by hand and take her into a dark, closed room, unchaperoned. And she warned him but he ignored her.

The way Portia came in, too: “what is the meaning of this?!”

She was within her right to demand Colin marry Penelope. It wouldn’t be manufactured as she did with cousin Jack, either.

But because she doesn’t see Penelope as worthy of someone like Colin - or of anyone, really - she let it go?! Both Portia and Colin were so wrong for this.

I know Colin and Pen are gonna have it out.

But I wanna see Penelope have words with her mother, too.

[audiblehush]

“Let Down” doesn’t even BEGIN to cover it.

Part 1 was pretty phenomenal setup. Perfect? No, but really good in terms of how they were approaching their characters in all their complexities and contradictions.

Part 2 threw ALL of that in the trash. I feel like I can’t even really articulate all my complaints about it right now; it’s too raw. These characters became cardboard cutouts of themselves and I’m just like… how could they fumble the ball so badly?

I have been saying for AGES that the latest Part 2 could get away with Colin finding out about LW was the beginning of ep. 6. That would allow him an ENTIRE episode for him to work through his anger and heartbreak AND for Penelope to fight toward earning his trust back (idk, like the episode name IMPLIES?! “Romancing Mr. Bridgerton” … where?! Where was the romancing?!).

Instead we have him finding out AT the start of fucking episode 7, with the most manufactured drama “will she won’t she” lead-up EVER. And then they’re not speaking for the majority of the FINAL two episodes while I fast forward through Ben’s threesomes trying to find more non-existent Polin?!

We were told it was going to be “Polin against the world” in episodes 7 and 8 and we got NONE of that?? I had no problem with Colin being angry, but the TIMING and PACING of it was always going to be critical and they fucked up big time. We got ONE real Polin sex scene BEFORE Colin knew about LW. I was willing to excuse that if the writing made up for it later but yeah… that’s not what happened. The level of betrayal is unreal.

They spent all this time giving Cressida a sympathetic backstory to just… ship her off? To show the similarities in her home life to Pen only to… do nothing with it? A chance for Pen to “use her quill responsibly” and she doesn’t because nope, gotta shift to one of MILLION plots that are in the air! So many possibilities they could have employed there with Pen and Cressida but NOPE - ship her off to a controlling aunt!

They did NOTHING for Colin aside from a few lines about him working on a manuscript? That’s it?! We don’t even REALLY get him sitting down and talking with Penelope about LW and her reasons, his own insecurities… we just get like, a brief line about it in the last episode? We didn’t get him (OR Pen) calling out his family for the way they often treat him as an afterthought?! JUSTICE FOR COLIN.

And to have Pen still writing LW at the end? To have her keep the coping mechanism that she developed out of the result of an ugly home life? (that makes no sense even because logistically it only worked with her IN THE SHADOWS). When you could have made her a novelist? You just immediately hand-wave the column and make her a baby making machine?!

No fucking thanks.

The writing let Pen, Colin, Cressida, and Eloise ALL down.

The writing in part 2 just didn’t respect these characters of their journeys. That was always going to be a death blow, based on all the comments actors have made… I have to imagine so much of this season ended up on the editing room floor… because part 2 was a DISASTER. I guess this is what fanfic is for, but to barely have my babies together in THEIR SEASON growing into their own and together? It just breaks my heart.

Nicola and Luke deserved better.

Pen and Colin deserved better.

[hanakoofthejungle]

HuskerDust watercolor fanart based on the fanfiction, Casino of Love by @artwaterfall. The fanfiction, in turn, was inspired by the Overlord Husk AU created by @celestialalpacaron.

Drawing timelapse 

This scene comes from Chapter 15 where Husk and Angel went on their first date at Fizzmodeus' restaurant. They had lobsters. Angel did not know how to eat a lobster so Husk came to the rescue. Basically, they just abused the hell out of that poor dead creature. (It occurred to me: Where does the lobster's soul go? Does it end up in hell, watching its body being consumed?)

---

Angel tried again to pry the shell off still looking over to the side. “Am I doing it?”

Husk barked a laugh so loud the pianist looked up frowning.

“Ya gotta look at what ya doing.”

“Ugh,” Angel deflated and let the lobster rest on the plate, “ maybe I shouldn't have lobster.”

“Here,” Husk got up and walked behind his chair. He laid his hand over Angel's and resumed trying to pry the poor crustacean body.

Angel blushed at the proximity, Husk was practically whispering into his ear about the damn lobster but Angel had trouble focusing with the overlord's hand on his own.

Still Angel butchered the first half of his lobster and screamed in joy a little too loud at having half of it done. People downstairs looked up at them again, frowning.

Husk was still helping him with the second half, juices and lobster bits flying everywhere at Angel clumsiness but every time they joined stares at each other, he would find the cat laughing along with him.

---

Now why did I choose this scene to draw? Because it is fun, simple, wholesome couple interaction and very relatable. It reminds me of the time when I had lobster for the first time in Brussels, spending more time to crack open the lobster than actually enjoying the dish. Turns out lobster did not taste that great, but at the least the group of elderly American at the next table got a good laugh out of watching me and my friend absolutely butcher that lobster :)))

Having never watched Helluva Boss, I had to look up what the inside of that place looks like, but mistakes ensure due to that very wrong heart shape and lack of patterns on the wallpaper. I was lazy but hey at least I got that lamp thingy on the table right :))) As usual, the clothes are the focal point of my fanarts, "a beautiful deep blue, floor length dress, there was only one shoulder strap and a lace veil came from it all the way to the floor behind his shoulder" and "freshly pressed black suit with a deep blue tie that matched Angel's dress". Husk's suit in this drawing is not actually black but a mix of ultramarine and sepia. I usually don't use colors straight out of the pan, but mixing them. I made an exception in this with the lake red color of Husk's wing. I forgot to draw the wings before I did the line art, so I need the color at its strongest to cover the line art which was not supposed to be there.  

My tools still include pencil and Leningrad watercolor. I have been using that watercolor set for over 10 years and it is still the best watercolor set I have ever had. This time I use the Blue Uni-ball pen by Mitsubishi Pencil instead of black M&G gel pen. The line art looks much smoother and the waterproof blue ink added a nice touch to the drawing. I expect nothing less from one of the best pen manufacturers out there. 

[brumeraven]

🍂: Resurrection || burnout, chronic illness, creativity, decay, depression, disability, expectations, fae, gross, dolls, psychopomps?, love?, the surreality of seeing a reflection of oneself in a hoarder

"it will take care of that, Miss."

Before the thought that I might as well be finished eating had even fully formed, the doll's fine porcelain fingers clamped on an equally fine porcelain plate one shade further from bone white, whisking it away from the table before me.

Presumptuous? Perhaps. But the doll was always right. I was done, the last fifteen minutes spent pushing bits of vegetable into sorted piles and tracing designs in the sauce.

All that brumeraven work disappeared along with a meal half-eaten at best on a plate...not quite normal?

"Where'd you find this plate?"

"the cupboard, Miss." It never was easy differentiate snark from honest confusion with this one.

"The edges. The rim is rolled. My plates have a rim that thins towards the edge, no?"

"the manufacturer changed its process. this one apologizes."

I thought nothing about it at the time, assumed that one had simply broken and the doll had tried to replace it without my finding out. These things happened from time to time; dolls hated change almost as much as they hated admitting culpability.

Then I threw out some paper.

I was writing again. Or, rather, I wasn't writing again, just staring at a few half-written words on a page.

With a frown and a flourish for none but myself, I plunged pen into inkwell and hovered over the paper in anticipation, willing anything at all to manifest on the page.

A splotch was the only answer to my prayers, dripped carelessly from nib I'd forgotten to tap then held in trembling hand. The iron gall ink darkened to black along with my mood, eating away at the paper until only a hole remained.

Crumpled and tossed in anger across the room.

"it will take care of that, Miss."

As always, the doll I'd forgotten was there was quick to act, scooping the balled-up scrap of failure off the floor with near-reverential care and turning as if to hurry from the room with it.

"Flatten that out first! It takes up too much space in the bin if it's crumpled. I'll not have you overflowing the trash."

My anger was as undirected as my scribbles. The doll stopped all the same and swiveled to look at me, shuddering slightly in a manner I took as quizzical.

"this one cannot."

I blinked, not understanding the flat refusal. "What do you mean you can't? You're not capable of flattening a sheet of paper?"

"it cannot destroy nor change what Miss has created..."

"It's trash. It's going to be destroyed anyways when it gets thrown out."

Quaking now, joints quivering with... Fury? Or shock?

I decided on the latter; I'd unintentionally committed some great blasphemy for what seemed the hundredth time.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"this one will file it, of course."

"Show me."

Words I would regret.

It lead the way, and I shuffled along after as fast as my failing legs would allow.

It wasn't far, just down to the exterior basement. I hadn't been in years, not since the trip out and around the side of the house and down the steep stairs had become all but impossible for me.

Still, it wasn't large, just a tiny cellar I'd never used for much. I pointed at the door, finger crooked yet still firm and unwavering in its demand, and the doll stepped forward to push it open.

I'm not sure what I expected to find.

Dolls are creatures of Flux, animated by it, and consequently have some limited capacity to influence their world. The exact nature of this interaction has been a productive topic for the philosophists, much scholarly debate with little actual scholarly consensus.

No doll has ever been capable of wielding Flux with any conscious control or precision, and yet...the subconscious wishes and needs of such simple creatures sometimes manifest in ways that would've been deemed impossible by even the most forceful Witch.

The basement was changed, different, massive. Certainly bigger than the footprint of the house at this point and with no indication that it had been dug out or otherwise enlarged.

It had simply...expanded to the doll's needs, without regard for the constraints of physical space.

The entirety was filled floor to near-ceiling with boxes in a hundred different sizes, piled haphazardly in stacks that could only charitably be described as precarious.

Half of them were only upright for the fact that every single gap was mortared full of assorted miscellany.

Stamping down on my trepidation firmly, I reached an unsteady hand to pop the lid of the closest box. A gurgle of disgust or perhaps dismay caught in my throat.

Inside was the plate of half-eaten food from before, along with another half-dozen in various stages of decomposition.

"Why. Did you. Do this." I gagged the words out, managing less snap in my voice than I would have preferred in the moment.

The doll blinked, hesitating in the middle of its carefully placing the crumbled paper in the space left between two boxes of more organized storage.

"this one ran out of room for boxes. the room stopped getting bigger. so it had to become more efficient."

"I-no, not that, the..." I gestured more broadly at the room as a whole, eventually settling on a question to encompass it. "What is all of this."

"it is you, Miss."

I took a step back under the force of the answer's innocence, thinking I didn't understand, fearing I would come to, dread creeping slowly up from my feet, its icy fingers clawing insistently at my bowels. "How...what do you mean..."

"it is you, Miss. this one is saving you."

In that moment, I understood. I felt that frigid clutch grab my throat and plunge it into my bile-filled stomach.

This was it.

This was everything.

All of this trash, rotting and pointless, was everything I had ever done, everything I'd ever accomplished.

Every plate I'd ever touched, every paper I'd ever thrown away, every clump of hair I'd ever shed, and every tissue I'd ever bled on. The scraps of every good idea and every bad. The mildew from tears shed in anger and in sadness and in joy.

This was all there was.

"...why." My throat clenched, dry, the word croaked from between cracked lips near to bleeding.

"because you are dying, Miss. it must save every single thing if it is to find someone to repair you when you are broken. if it misses anything, you won't be whole."

The house burned the next day, and with it, everything that I owned. An accident, they said. Dolls could be peculiar, they said.

I didn't care.

None of it meant anything anyways.

~🍂

[macaroni-rascal]

I hate to say it, but Bridgerton has got to be one of the most uneven-quality pieces of media I've ever consumed. The way it can go from brilliant scenes with exquisite acting and writing and turn around a second later and have CWcore levels of manufactured drama and hokey performances. I'm utterly bored one minute and enthralled the next. They spent so much time building up Cressida but she just ended up being more of a plot device than a character and was unceremoniously discarded the second she'd served her narrative purpose. Kate has kicked Anthony out of bed TWICE this season, whymst? Couldn't be me. And the sheer whiplash from the slow burn Polin deliciousness in P1 to the overcrowded and crammed P2 where almost no moment could be earned or savored because the season should've been at least 10 episodes instead of 8. There's incredible detail and insane craftsmanship to all the design of the show but such silly continuity errors that I sometimes wonder if the different departments even talk to each other. On a certain level I should know what to expect from a Shondaland production at this point in my TV watching career, but I can't help but think that the show never *truly* reaches its full potential. It's just such a mindfuck that a show can both be junk food for the brain *and* approach generational cultural milestone status. I appreciate so much of it but at the same time I want to change so many things, especially surrounding pacing and focus, it's infuriating.

Here's my take: I think it's a show to watch with soft eyes.

I agree with you on almost everything, but I also don't want to take the show too seriously, because I'm just here for the dumb fun regency romance of it all. If I really dove deep I would 100% change stuff, but I'm making the conscious choice to just float on the surface of the water and go 'ohhhh pretty girl in pretty dress getting loved up! ohhh ball gowns! ohhhh drama! angst! hands kisses!'

I could also spend hours on the Shondaland of it all, but I would rather just stare at gifsets of Colin and Pen being in love/adorable/hot with each other, so that's what I'm gonna do. Not trying to yuck your yum, feel all your feelings and think all your thoughts. For me, personally, some media avails itself to closer inspection, and some of is just fluff that makes hearts happy as long as you don't look too close.

[radioiaci]

@ducktastic-dad ⧐ the scratch of a scribbling ball-point pen reaches intensity, paper earning indent scars from the pressure. ran out of ink … maybe alastor handed him a dying one on purpose, he wouldn't put it past them to hoard the best supplies ; they do belong to alastor, after all. lucifer inviting himself into the radio demon's tower on a whim, and demanding a share of the paper he's seen filled with scratchy little doodles before, he's left little room for a refusal. it would be an acceptable revenge. ; the devil turns, and with an all too absent-minded lack of intention he asks, " babe can you pass a pen ? " UNPROMPTED ASKS.

It is a rare occurrence for anyone to be given license to flit about his booth in such a brazen way. He has things in places that he prefers to keep in those places. It is rather untidy, in fact, in a chaotically organized kind of way. So when Lucifer deigns to join him while he works at manufacturing a few new stories - pen and paper in one hand and small non-fiction book in the other to source a few historic details - he is already somewhat agitated.

But if anyone is to invade his space so, it is Lucifer and no one else.

Eventually, his irritation quells and he simply opts to work quietly while the other does whatever note-taking or scratching about on that paper that he is doing, a playlist of light jazz piano melodies playing somewhere on one of his custom-made radios nearby. At some point, he abandons his own writing to simply read, leaning back in his chair in a recline as he does so.

When he is addressed, he almost does not think about it as he glances from his book-fueled meditation, reaching to dig about in a nearby cup of pens to procure another one of his fountains that still likely have some ink in them to hand over to Lucifer when-

The realization that he has certainly not been referred to by his name hits him in a rather violent way and he drops his book as he nearly topples out of the damn chair entirely. It's a comical sight of long arms and legs FLOUNDERING to maintain his balance before it settles, though at some point his face catches up to the infuriating little pet name and he is sure he is as red as he has ever been.

Awful. Alastor reaches to grab the entire cup of pens he has half-knocked over in his wheeling about and slaps it in front of Lucifer with a buzz of indignant feedback before he is reaching for his book and burying his face into it once again.

"Get the damn pen yourself," he practically warbles in his fluster. The nearby radio crackles and hisses, the dial on it giving a strange little spin. Mid-tune, the song is interrupted, replaced instead by another that he prays is not overt.

Do not look at him.

[ballpens]

Ball Pen

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[poojalate]

How Ball Pens Impact Writing Quality and Speed: An In-Depth Look

Ball pens are ubiquitous in everyday life, particularly in educational and professional settings. However, their impact on writing quality and speed is often taken for granted. In this piece, we delve into how the design and performance of ball pen influence both the efficiency and effectiveness of writing, making them an essential tool for anyone who puts pen to paper.

 The Mechanics Behind Smooth Writing

The smooth writing experience offered by ball pens is largely due to their unique design. At the tip of the pen, a small ball rotates as it glides across the paper, dispensing ink evenly. This mechanism minimizes friction, allowing for a seamless flow of ink. As a result, users experience less hand fatigue, which can significantly improve writing speed and overall pen performance.

The smoothness of a ball pen directly impacts the quality of writing. When a pen flows effortlessly, it allows the writer to focus on the content rather than the mechanics of writing. This ease of use can lead to more fluid handwriting, with fewer interruptions or breaks in the writing process. For students and professionals alike, this translates into cleaner, more consistent penmanship.

 Enhancing Writing Speed

Writing speed is a crucial factor in many scenarios, from taking notes in a classroom to jotting down ideas during a brainstorming session. Ball pens, with their low resistance and steady ink flow, enable users to write quickly without sacrificing legibility. The design of the ball tip ensures that ink is distributed evenly with each stroke, reducing the need to retrace letters or apply extra pressure, both of which can slow down writing.

For those who need to write at a rapid pace, such as during timed exams or in fast-paced work environments, the ability to maintain speed without compromising quality is invaluable. Ball pens provide this balance, making them a preferred choice for those who prioritize efficiency in their writing tasks.

 The Role of Pen Performance in Writing Quality

Not all ball pens are created equal. The performance of a ball pen—how smoothly it writes, how consistent the ink flow is, and how comfortable it is to hold—can greatly affect writing quality. High-performance ball pens are designed to offer an optimal writing experience, with features like ergonomic grips, high-quality ink, and precision-engineered tips. These elements contribute to a pen’s overall performance, ensuring that writing remains smooth and consistent, even during extended periods of use.

When the pen performs well, the writer can produce clean, crisp handwriting with minimal effort. This is particularly important for individuals who write extensively, as a high-performance ball pen can reduce hand strain and improve writing accuracy over time.

 Balancing Quality and Speed

While ball pens enhance writing speed, they also play a crucial role in maintaining writing quality. The best ball pens strike a balance between these two aspects, offering both quick, effortless writing and sharp, legible text. This balance is key in educational settings, where students need to write both quickly and clearly to keep up with lectures or complete timed exams. It’s also vital in professional environments, where clear, precise writing is essential for communication and documentation.

 Conclusion: The Ball Pen as a Writing Tool

In conclusion, the impact of ball pens on writing quality and speed cannot be overstated. Their design and performance contribute to a smooth, efficient writing experience that benefits users in both educational and professional settings. By providing a balance between speed and quality, ball pens ensure that writers can produce their best work, whether they are taking notes, drafting a report, or simply jotting down their thoughts. As such, the ball pen remains an indispensable tool for anyone who values both the efficiency and clarity of their writing.

[spartexscribbles]

Lezing Impact Refillable Ball Pen | Affordable Ball Point Pens

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[the-gboi]

Hello! People of the Multiverse!

I just wanna rant about one of my NPCs/OCs. Since I'm a forever DM, I often introduce characters I'd like to play into the campaigns I run. This one's one of them! I will be writing this from memory since I lost my notes on him when my last phone died. :P

Gorg...

Gorg lives in the enormous city of Ravnica, specifically in the 10th district, between the 3rd and the 4th precincts. If you know a bit about Ravnica, you know it's a plane-wide city, with ten guilds that govern every part of life. Well... except for one.

You see, Ravnica wasn't always supposed to be entirely civilized and urbanized, there were supposed to be wild areas of untouched nature where animals could roam free. The Gruul Clans were supposed to be the protectors of these zones, but the ever-expanding city kept encroaching into these parts, leaving no square foot unpaved and the Clans without a clear purpose. And so, they rage and destroy those cobbled streets, trying to bring back a past that is far gone. Or, at least, that's the Old way's way of looking at it.

Into this mess, an Orc is born.

The year is 10.045. It is a night of revel for the Zhur-Taa Clan, for they have taken down one of the Izzet's main manufacturing facilities around the 4th district. The night is filled with cheers and drinking, and yet, Konik Mons weeps inside the beast pen. The newborn Gorg cries in his mother's arms, his face still bloodied from birth. Their cries are lost in the night, alongside Konik's partner, Murik Baar, who did not make it back from the assault, and his child will not get to know his valiant father.

The year is 10.057. It is a long and arduous summer day for Gorg and Konik, as the latest assault on the nearby "Beast Heaven" has brought about a multitude of captured creatures that need to be patched up and healed since the barbaric and often axe-handed abductors could not care less in what state they brought the animals. As the young Gorg separated the wounded creatures from the rest so they could be treated by his mother, he happened across the most peculiar critter.

The diminutive feline couldn't have been larger than Gorg's fist, yet it fiercely hizzed at the horned alynx, standing his ground on his three pinky-sized legs. The alynx looked annoyed, and it raised his front claw, ready to make a snack out of the defiant nuisance at his feet. A swipe away from ending the creature, a piece of oxen meat flying away caught its attention, and the beast ran behind it. While the predator devoured the succulent morsel of meat, Gorg scooped up the curious ball of fur, and he ran back to his mother to show her his discovery.

"It seems not an alynx youngling," declared Konik, "it lacks the little horn buds on its head". The orc woman grabbed the creature and gently placed it on her table. "Nor is it a simple lynx either, for it is far too small and fragile lookin'." She paused and took a small moment to analyze the little stump where the front left leg would be. She looked for a cut or a sign of bludgeon, yet she didn't find one. "Huh... Must have been born this way." Grog opened the shack's blinds, letting in more light so her mother could work better. "Thank you, my little plum." Her mother doted on him. They both looked back at the table where the light shone the most. The feline's orange and white hair glistened with the coming sunlight, while it took this opportunity to shut its eyes and lay on the desk calmly. "Look at the critter, Gorg! It fell asleep on the table." Gorg looked at it, almost as if he was feeling a new emotion he couldn't describe quite well. He felt relaxed and perceptive, looking at the whole of the creature while it rested on the desk. He placed a hand on it and did as he had done with other animals, stroking its body gently. It started... vibrating? Or growling? The animal did not look in discomfort, yet Konik removed her son's hand from it, unaware of this species' forms of communication. It opened its eyes and looked back at Gorg, emitting a high-pitched sound that almost sounded like a request. It wanted to be stroked again, he thought, and so he did. It pushed its head onto Gorg's hand, falling to the side after it moved its front leg to grab his hand. It spun back on its feet and resumed being stroked.

"I want to keep it," Gorg muttered.

And that's it for now! I'll write the rest when... When I'm feeling like it. Hehe.

Please share your thoughts! And if you've got any characters from a dnd game you're running, or playing, please share those too!

[lifestyle-everyday]

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Furthermore, choosing SSB Metals means investing in durability and longevity. Our pens are built to last through countless pages of notes and signatures without compromising on quality. Say goodbye to flimsy pens that run out of ink too soon - with SSB Metals ball pen manufacturers in India, you can trust in the lasting power of each stroke as it glides effortlessly across the page with unmatched finesse. Elevate your writing game today with SSB Metals - where precision meets perfection in every stroke!

[wright21love]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: *SOLD* MONTBLANC NOBLESSE GERMANY Ball Point Pen Steel & Gold Clip-Mechanism.