i sold your rope for a bucket of lemon peel, now suck it

it went without saying this female had been blessed with the gift of gab. oddleif nearly lost the plot halfway through her explanation but he caught the tail-end of her commentary and exhaled quietly. they did have some common ground to be remarked upon – solitude was capital, though he somehow got the impression that she only wanted it in moderated doses.

"do you like it?" he asked her with a faint simper, emerging part-way from his shadow allowance. "those rocks over there," he swept his muzzle to a stack of completely uninspiring rocks, as if to pitch her his merchandise. "it's like sleeping on a cloud." he leaned his shoulder against the tree by which he sat and arced his eyebrows with a smooth addendum to complement it – "obviously i don't have to convince you."