Ah, Jenks? It’s Not A Lake, It’s

It Is Not Always What We Do, Sa'han, But Who We Love That Makes Us Who We Are. Quen

The Small Gargoyle Had Gone Entirely White To Match The Ceiling, And Only The Rims Of His Ears, His Long Clawlike Nails, And A Thick Stripe Down His Whip-like Tail Were Still Gray. He Was Crawling Along The Ceiling Like A Bat, Wings Held To Make Sharp Angles And Claws Extended. It Just About Broke My Creepy Meter.

Listen Before You Draw Your Battle Lines, Lest You Alienate Your Allies.

Jenks Laughed, Taking To The Air And Saying, “give It Up, Fib Man. It’ll Take More Than You To Get Her Out. Remember What Ivy And I Did To Your Finest Last Spring? Add Rachel To That, And You Can Say Your Prayers.” From Behind Me Came Edden’s Dry “you Think Ivy Wants Another Stint As A Candy Striper?

Good Lord, I Thought, Squinting At The Bright Glare Of A Late-july Morning. No Wonder I Slept Through This. It Was Noisy With Shrieking Birds, And Already Hot.