Silver Creek Face your wall

address halted her step. churchbell to a troll. she stood gape-eyed as it rose and turned.

it had a queer sort of face, as if swollen from sickness, or bloated by blood prevented to flow by the noose about its neck.

yet is spoke with a man's voice.

yet it spoke with foreigner gesture.

her tongue slipped out to wet her whiskers.

hhhhai. long-unused chords clogged with unspoken ramblings. she made a long, hissing sound-

she spat onto the snow a yellow glob.

mmmonk. her wide-eyed attention was back on the thing. vat is monk?

hullo u sent me headfirst into a rabbithole with that link asdfg