Cricket Creek Bog hippopotamus

family. he almost asked after brook, the fluttering little kingfisher girl. but he quieted his jaw on that account, watching as aditya came to join him in the cool muck beneath the fetid surface.
"the saints are powerful. unless you journey far, you will not be able to escape their reach. even if you are an old man." a twinkle. he settled his neck more comfortably, shut his gaze. "better to pledge your fealty to their hallowed heads," he said rakishly, sardonically, "and live another day. nyra would be happy to kill anyone, i believe."
wallowing pleasantly then, pharaoh and priest.