Lion Head Mesa fake out

an awfulmost thrumming in his skull, as if bulls were charging through.

not that different from reality, where he dodged the march of guardsmen.

gucci slipped into the first hallway he crossed, hopping on three legs, fourth raised to press itself into the base of his muzzle, futilely attempting to apply pressure though it to the brain.

he were ignorant of his limping, rotund self got in the way of a servant-girl.