Ankyra Sound oh, green world -- don't deserve me now

puttin this guy here in case you all want to have another round

she was exhausted. she counted four -- four wretches whelps nestled against her flank. their forms characterless and writhing. that they could be so small, that they came from her -- (and kierkegaard, thx for that buddy). she did not marvel long, for a tiredness she had never known soon overcame her. she scarcely lifted her head as kierkegaard's familiar form spilled into the arch of the den's mouth, nor did she stir when he came alongside her. she needn't speak -- he would understand -- in a tired slump she rested content against his shoulder. her children -- no, their children -- clutched tight to her side.