Cerulean Cape jello mold

his lips mashed together tighter and tighter, goldenrod ears splaying out and out the longer her sentence grew. "that's not true," lionel spat, whirling in a tight semi-circle but not quite turning his back upon the reclining woman. why was she lying down? insulted by the perceived slight against his ability to be imposing, the mayfair snaked back his gumline and let the railroad spikes along his shoulders climb high.
he did not remember hearing the name coelacanth, but it didn't matter, not at all, not one bit. not while she gallumphed in the dirt and lied to him about a name that only belonged to their clan.
"you're a liar."