Trieze

The willow cloud cremated a charade as its feigning alarm foiled the mood of the hay. Scrunched sky skidded, smothering salient seal, hankering hay hoisted for other luminaries to behold. Dark dances persisted as a dirge was enthroned on the lanky larynx of bounty birds blown hither and thither by the wailing crescendo of the nosy nature. Order began to mate with malady as the sun edged to the west for work out.

The order of the tenth heaven had began to trace stripes on the back of the order of the jungle. She knew that all those were the entourage of a good thing that would happen. She had no idea if that was in any way related to the coming home of Machli, but she could feel a sting of joy reaching for the cleavages of her worries. Yet another feeling sprouted, snapping at the jolting joy birthed. She was made a pawn to both felon feelings.

It was unusual that Botha was seated with no interest in what was going on around him. Reag

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