Feathered dragons. Cuttlecows. Psychic mushrooms.
Zulabar's a strange place.
My name is Claire, and I'm failing at art, but I'm pretty comfortable with that. To be intelligent, someone has to push past expectations. To fail, you have to fall short of them. Neither of these things succeed in conventional ways. You have to understand, I'm very stupid. I say this in the most affectionate way possible. And worse still, I seem to gravitate toward the most intelligent people in the room, as if I get some masochistic glee from embarrassing myself. I like people who shift, morph and obliterate expectations. And I like birds.