As the Taurus winds were ‘a blowing

And thus the Lord of the Galaxies rose, his temples throbbing with weariness. The little babe wailed some more.

Now you want me back? I thought you wanted me gone.”

The child’s cheeks, as cherub-like as the day was long, puffed once, an unseemly crease etching itself upon its brow.

The Lord of the Galaxies chuckled, his tight chest letting be.

“You’ll be a hard one to handle, won’t you?” the child’s face brightened then, its pudgy little arms reaching out for the dangling stars, always a little too far to reach. “Taurus, my little Taurus. Toughest one of them all.”
Ps: this has absolutely nothing to do with Greek mythology. Just a little scribbling I did in the car :-).



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