Sawtooth Spire dear god: thanks, if you loved me the vegetables would be extinct

whoopi-goldberg can of whoop-ass or not, stag's sticking to his guns.

adorable.

this teacup tempest had stag all sorts of befuddled. what was he supposed to do with her now? he had tentatively tried to deny her advancement by obstructing her with a paw. from his view, he couldn't really see her. (he had his mega-donkers to thank for that.) he could hear her though - she sounded like a cockatoo rudely denied bathroom access, which hastily made stag retract his paw.

pulling back his paw to inspect the little bundle of joy resistance, stag was horrified to see that in the process of pushing her, he had somehow permanently maladjusted her spine. her little head was pushed so far into her neck that rolls grotesquely appeared around her crown like obscene wreaths. holy shit!! were babies that fragile?!

even her head sat at a weird angle -- FRICK!! WYLLA WAS GOING TO KILL HIM.

stag had barely touched her! it had been a light tap, honest!

his eyes darted around in a panic; no one had seen he had just permanently blemished the baby, right? like a grocery-goer hastily picking up the apple they most definitely bruised by dropping it on the hard, cold, dirty ass concrete floor, stag yelped and withdrew in horror.

wylla was going to be here any minute - or mahler -- and how was he going to explain that his fat manhandling of their precious child had resulted in disfiguring her? was she made of aluminum or something? stag began heavy breathing, panic setting in. maybe she had looked like that before, and he hadn't noticed. he was inobservant, right??

she definitely had always looked like a maimed piece of squash..

right???