Morningside Cuesta morning glory

frederick, dear frederick; he spoke of killing lestan's beloved deer in the same breath as renaming her son, and the effect positively confused the mayfair with horror. he smothered it upon his face, rolled his shoulders; in the manner of a man hyping himself up to walk into a locker room, he nodded.
"i — i h-haven't yet n-named him, n-no. probably for the best," he chuckled weakly. "h-how m-many m-more hunters, do you think?" lestan stalled, not wanting to be included in that particular party.