At some point every little dark elf boy wants to try his hand against his mom. And they're lucky to
keep it attached. They tell each other stories about the hero of a certain Salvatore series, vicariously living his
dazzling adventures in their minds, before getting the #@¢% back to work.
Olthlaymas is the the time of year where drowboys go about in costume, and a few dare to dress up as their
literary eidolon, cheerfully risking "disappearance".
But Freznip is, at heart, a good little drowboy. He'd never dress up as a traitor, even one from an entirely
alien dimension.
–A traitor's kewl panther sidekick, on the other hand? Ooo yeah!
Ah, the whuppin' Clerd dished out that day. The flying fur. The runny tears. The flailing hands in oversized paws.
The big sister looking on, eating popshrooms.
A bargain at ten times the price.
–Kiril