Sawtooth Spire süße augen

It was about time the fluff of mischief got death handed to her — disguised in a silken cloth; unwrapped by the bony fingers of Death himself.
Unfortunately, her father was all the wiser and saved Phaedra form taking a treat from the eerie stranger. At the time, Astraeus didn't know death or perish, but he did know hunger. It's fingers promenaded leisurely across his body then . . . 

His head snapped back to intention as the dippy imp impersonated her father. Ha! As if it was any easier to tell them apart, he knew now one clearly had a brain. Hardly akin, he had to conclude. Sniffing with vitriol lining, Astraeus nosed Phaedra to the side with a huff. The greedy lass cleraly did not come from good stock, it made him wonder if Mahler was Phaedra's kinsman. 'Ought to leave her to what she did best, guzzling dirt and fungi while the starish-eyed son blatantly groveeld at the gargoyle's foot. 

"Can't not eat becaw not meat!" he yips, his arse facing Phaedra as it should be. It'll be only prt of him she'll see for a while.