The Crumpetmonger’s Quiet Secret Rarely do poets hide what their hands or hearts desire, Each sweet I crave I bury deep, lest gossip's flame catch fire.
King Skarl’s Big Adventure King Skarl slouched on his throne, staring moodily at the Yellow Lupe who stood hopefully before him. The Lupe shuffled his feet and smiled nervously. Hesitantly, he spoke. Collab with firefoxtails