Anyway that line in Over The Garden Wall where Beatrice’s mom goes “you’re no good to your brother dead” and Wirt goes “I was never any good to him alive either” before marching out into the cold was so fucking raw and went so hard, that’s it that’s the post guys.
Led through the mist, By the milk-light of moon, All that was lost, is revealed. Our long bygone burdens, mere echoes of the spring, But where have we come, and where shall we end? If dreams can’t come true, then why not pretend? How the gentle wind, Beckons through the leaves, As autumn colors fall.
ifesbob 