And, as I am an honest puck, if we have unearned luck, now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, we will make amends ere long. Else, the puck a liar call. So, good night upon you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.
Madness string 489
The River runs through the sands out of myth and into legend. The Painted River runs the other way. One is barred to the Centipede now, but she finds ways back in, sometimes.