As a writer, I’ve always believed I owe my readers and fellow dreamers my best — not perfection, but presence. The care to craft something alive, with color and heart. That’s the standard I hold myself to.
But I stumbled recently during the Running of the Leaves event. There was a moment in play — a light exchange with a batpony — where I said something along the lines of, “Luna said batponies were refined, elegant, and graceful. You are none of those things.”
Written out like that, wi