Lion Head Mesa Everything is lit except my serotonin

His fellow priest would find him in his rooms, stretched out in the pile of skins with a little frown upon his features. The sneezing was ringing through the redstone halls, and Akhtar knew if he was sneezed or snotted upon, he would. Lose. His. Mind.

He met the girl at the door, one of his paws folded over his nose as sleepy eyes stared at her overtop the silver appendage bent across his long snout.

Dear girl, He wheedled expertly.

Shouldn't you be seeing the sesh with those sneezes? If you are contagious and I get your plague, I will not be responsible for what I do.