Flit frightful underground, fret falling through the floorboards atop the vast (expectation of) below. Stay low and be hollowed of all air when the fire comes a-raging. Feel its gentry wind of breath whisper conspiratorially against the eavesdrop of your neck. (Don't tell me where we're going.)
"Frequenting dragons temper, my light is the light of a door as the wind and rain create stained glass on my heart!" (-M. at the drop of a line, sagely.)
Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (3/30/10)
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