Noctisardor Bypass I'm sick and tired of love songs

Green and pink tangled together against the dark night sky. Wylla allowed herself to be transfixed while Druid formulated her answer. Whatever they were, their undulations sure had an intoxicating effect on the eye.

When Druid answered, she chuckled again. You know, said Wylla, the prettiest things actually stink the worst. I bet they smell like... Rotten whale shit. Oops, there was that foul language again. But to Wylla, they were only words, with no power of their own. It never occurred to her that anyone's mother might not appreciate those remarks around their cubs.

My mom told me when I was little that they might be ghosts, she shared. She liked to joke around a lot. She said if you yell at them really loud, they'll come down and steal your soul. Suffice it to say, Wylla wouldn't chance being wrong about doubting Lusca's stories.