Meadowlark Prairie waiting on the planet to turn to me, dark side

qiao would have been delighted to know of arsenio's interest in herbs, but the conversation sailed smoothly past comfrey and nettle, landing upon the heavy topic of a queen. ah, what queen did not have a king to her name? for in this world it seemed women drew their power not from their own merits, but the men which gave them their little titles, their soft furs, their full stomachs and roundling children.

"no." qiao answered honestly. "i have had enough of kings and queens." she waved them off with a little paw. "they care not for the little man or woman; they move on through life with heavy feet, stepping on the heads of all that were born beneath them. and were you not useful to them," qiao's eyes turned upon him knowingly, for she had seen the playful smile that chased away the serious shadows in his face: "they would bleed you dry, too.

do you love your queen, huntsman?"