Lion Head Mesa That's a fine looking high horse

How dare she laugh! Torrents of waves are catapulted at the insolent mazoi with a snarl! But Legend’s cackling persists and before long it solicits her own; a feeble guilty chatter that evolves into full chortling from the hull of her stomach, body slackened and neck arching along the redstone embankment in frivolity.

“I've neeeever been happier!” She comes up for a gulp of air and wades up to Legend’s side in a pester, chin against shoulder, eyes drawing shapes around her’s, golden for silver. A quickly captivated audience for the story she sells. And out of the water pulls Eset’s sopping tail for supplementary dramatics. Messenger, so that’s what she did. It was assembling fragments of her own life.

But once more is Legend adrift in hysterics! “Godsss giiiirl!” She moans, “whaat did he do for you? What did he do to you?” She beat herself against Seth, the shadowed figure who so thoroughly had her in his thralls even in absence. And fine there was spite too, because she’d felt something for him and it was permitted to be real.

The fellahin reaches up with a wobbly paw that wills her to be alive!