Celadon’s viewpoint always seems to be rather grimmer than Sings-to-Trees–which makes a certain sense, granted the sort of life she’s apparently led–and yet I can’t escape the feeling that she’s got a far more developed sense of humor. Funny how that works out.
I appreciate you guys not nagging me about posting more, unlike some of the people over at DA. *grin* I suspect the community over there is just too large for me to expect the word of the perversity of my particular muse to spread. Oh, well. People really did use dried corncobs as toilet paper […]
Bonus points to the person who said that she wouldn’t faint until the very end so that Sings-to-Trees would have to deal with the armor again. Someone understands me too well… *shifty-eyes*
A much shorter installment this time, but Celadon had less to say right off the bat. She’s really more a woman of action. Don’t worry, I’m not cruel enough to leave you at that cliffhanger for long. Promise.
People wanted to see the meeting between Sings-to-Trees and Celadon Toadstool. This might not have mattered, except that I wanted to see it too. I cannot say that it is a good story. It rambles badly. I cannot even say it will be a finished story–y’all know me and my perverse muse by now. I […]