The Tangle “Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

Had Blossom had the ability to read minds, she would have gladly accepted the title of concubine despite not knowing in the slightest what that meant.

Then, she lit up like a star at Miette inviting her to dance. She glanced around them, the itty bitty clearing, trying to envision what she could do with the space.

My momma taught me! She hummed a little melody, letting it become a songbird’s tune from her chest. Then, she swirled around Miette on light feet, like a woman’s swishing skirts, preforming small hops and twirls before she was twirling away to dance through the clearing.

Her momma was a good teacher, she thought to herself as she spun to the tune of her own making.