Sawtooth Spire And I bet right now you're probably thinking that

anyone can hear him closest to him too ? ?? 

Clasping his chapped lips whpped from the spires' winds, he shushed — avoiding the discomforting gazes of the quartet. The blunted småkniver fluffed up his bosom and retarted his ears. Have it her way. When he was skidding on starlight and the earth had relinqushed him, she'd be old and wrinkly anyways. Then he could shout at her from the cloudtops in turn. Daydreamer extraodinare — he lifted up his nose (sniffling because of hurt pride) he let the other go on before him before stomping along muttering:

"Old witch."