Sleepy Fox Hollow and so i enter into evidence

she is small, this woman who digs her teeth into his muzzle; but she is fierce and that more than makes up for it.

poet's ears slick back against his skull in submission, tail tucking betwixt his legs. he wouldn't call this is finest nor proudest moment and though entertainer he may be, he also understands that this is his consequence. the bite of her teeth, the humility he feels creeping up his throat.

'cause i'll make it up to you 'n your kith 'n kin. he's groveling, deep honeyed whiskey low and twangy, but this groveling is justifiable to his pride because he doesn't want to die. definitely not now nor anytime soon. i'll do whatever ya want me to.