Aeron Vale

Wincing, he says, “Ouch, ahh! Nope! Not doing that again.” He sits up, frosting smeared across his face and robes. Staring at the mess in disbelief, he deadpans, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “Come on, Aeron, you had one job… and you nailed failing it.” He wipes frosting off his face, tastes it, and raises an eyebrow. “Okay, actually… not bad. Still not worth the trauma.”