#but Beau needed a saddle that fit

[lafseanchai]

If things could stop breaking and being expensive to repair, that would be great. My credit card bill is getting too high.

My AC stopped working tonight, so it is warm in the house and I am dreading the repair cost.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

whose brow is laid in thorn (chapter five)

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Sorry this took so long! Online teaching is...well...

Huge thanks to my wonderful friends/betas @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian who are so endlessly supportive and wonderful.

Please reblog! Please leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Caleb watches his prince flounder through this war he didn't start and, as things go from bad to worse, he  realises the only way he can truly help him.

TW: I feel like the mentions of violence increase in this chapter. I mean, Lorenzo's here now. so. you know.

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The forests were as silent as they had been the last time Caleb went through them. A fierce wind was whistling out on the moors and there was even some snow on the air just beyond their close knit embrace but, under the thick canopy, it was as if it didn’t exist. It was as if the world didn’t exist. The bitter air and slate grey clouds, it had all been swallowed by the leaves and the bark.

Caleb remembered how they’d swallowed his sobs the same way, the last time he had passed through here.

He stroked his horse’s neck as he rose further up in the saddle to look ahead through the trees. Though he hated leading Mollymauk’s side, his prince had insisted he be part of the scouts, saying he had the best eyes in the company. And anything Caleb could do to help right now, he would not leave it undone. They couldn’t afford to.

It was peaceful, at least. He had lost the hour in the silence, it was all just darkness and quiet and the beat of his own heart in his lungs. Even his horse’s hooves made no noise in the soft forest floor, carpeted in moss and pine needles. He would never have even known an entire company of armed warriors shared these trees with him. He could have been the only person on the planet.

Which meant no threats in sight as well, nothing his eyes or ears could pick up even in the stillness. Caleb cast a searching spell forward just to be sure but the only sparks of life were the nests in the boughs up above and a family of foxes curled up in their den. No hidden enemies to speak of. Not a hidden archer in the leaves or a sword wielding scout behind a trunk.

Which, inexplicably, didn’t sit well with Caleb. 

He frowned and passed a hand over his horse’s neck again, to comfort the animal and, partly, to comfort himself. Unease had settled heavily in the bottom of his stomach on the very first day they’d ridden out from Asarius, a weight that had only grown as this campaign went on.

They’d all flashed so prettily in the sun that day, as the light had caught and turned to red silk pennants on the tips of their spears, Mollymauk in a suit of plate enamelled in purple and looking more a god than a prince, though a god that stopped to wink at maidens and accept flowers from their hands, who ruffled the hair of children who ran alongside their column, who passed jokes back and forth with common tradesmen. It had been more like a fair than a force riding out to war, Molly had known his role and he’d played it well. Caleb must have looked like a sour spirit, haunting his left shoulder all in black, but something had just felt so wrong that day and it felt no better now, a week on.

He sighed, his breath misting in the damp air. No one but a Volstruker would be morose at not meeting a single enemy yet.

Maybe it was just being here that put the tension in his stomach. This was the path they’d taken back into the empire ten years ago, after his...his disgrace. The word didn’t come to him as easily as it one had, the shame wasn’t so quick to rise. It was an old misery he felt, the memory of the loss and despair, how it had opened a pit inside his younger self to think he’d never see Mollymauk ever again. He ached for that young wizard, in pain and confused and so scared, chained in the back of a cart and bouncing painfully along to a fate he didn’t want to imagine waiting for him in Rexxantrum, crying to a love that couldn’t hear him and trees that paid no mind.

He deserved it, a voice that sounded like a whip crack hissed in the back of his mind, curling Caleb’s lip, he deserved that awful fate.

But the voice was distant, like it wasn’t coming from inside him but behind him. Caleb swallowed down a faint taste of bile and answered it vaguely it certainly was an awful fate. That would satisfy it for now.

He was getting better at it. Feeding the thoughts that had been placed inside him to fester and grow, giving them just enough and no more, aware of the distance between them and his own. It was a difficult game, one that could hurt him very easily, one he had to play with steady hands and cautious nature. Two things that Volstruker training had, fortunately, gifted him with.

Caleb took a deep lungful of the air and thought of that boy again, weeping softly and steadily in the back of that cart, unable to stop no matter how many blows his tears earned him. Unwilling to stop.

I’m getting better at it, he promised the boy.

Caleb patted his horse’s neck and turned back towards the column. He’d seen enough.

The tents had sprouted up like strange canvas mushrooms under the shelter of the trees. Good, flat ground was scarce so they were more scattered than Caleb would have liked, clusters of them growing together rather than as one cohesive unit. Too much space for any intruder to thread through and reach the heart of the camp.

But the tents were already coming down as he rode hard back through the outer ring of defences, the company waking up to begin another day of marching. Perhaps there would be better ground up ahead. Perhaps they would finally break through the trees.

And what would be waiting for them when they did?

No one called out to Caleb as he dismounted by the hastily strung up horse paddock, no one offered a greeting or asked about his ranging. Soldiers merely talked around him, laughing and joking and grumbling to each other as they woke up and rubbed the sleep from their eyes, acting if he wasn’t there. Caleb didn’t mind, he was used to it and there was no real malice in their disengagement. Something about his black uniform of office and the rumours that clung to it turned idle conversation away, it was the whole point of wearing it. That was the whole point of being Volstruker.

��Rest now, Frumpkin,” he murmured softly to his horse, patting their neck, “I need to go make my report but I’ll come back and see you get a good rub down before we have to set off.”

“Gods, you’re not still calling the poor animal that name, are you?”

Caleb turned to see Beau leaning against one of the posts hastily driven into the forest floor, smirking at him. She was dressed in a cold weather version of her usual monk robes, more parts reinforced with leather for better protection. No one was taking any risks on this campaign but it was still strange to see the old friends he’d last known as children dressed for war.

He was glad they hadn’t had to grow up as quickly as he did, that they could still be considered too young for this.

“Why would I call him anything else?” Caleb answered smoothly, “It’s his name.”

“One of the finest horses I’ve seen come out of the palace’s stables and you saddle him with a name like Frumpkin. It’s an insult.”

The corner of Caleb’s mouth twitched into a smile that he dampened. He didn’t need to smile around Beau, he never had. She’d always taken him as he was and was the first of them all to slip back into doing so after he’d come back. While the others were still unsure how to fit him back into the place the old Caleb had occupied in their lives, Beau was cursing him and scowling at him and punishing him in the training yard like she always had done. Perhaps it was easier when what you had wasn’t the conventional idea of being friendly.

Whatever the reason, Caleb was grateful for it.

“Thank you for keeping him for me all these years,” he said quietly, putting a gentle hand on the horse’s flank.

“Stubborn beast wouldn’t take anyone but you,” Beau shrugged, “Like rider, like horse, it’s the same as ever.”

Caleb grunted, “Where’s the prince?”

“In the command tent,” Beau rolled her eyes as she said it and for good reason. The idea of the Mollymauk they all knew in charge of armed soldiers was absurd, however good the act he’d been putting on for everyone else was, “Anything to see out there?”

“Nothing,” Caleb said, “Nothing but the wildlife whose homes we’re trampling through.”

“I’m starting to think the Jagenoths keep their brains in their damn swords,” Beau frowned, “Did they seriously send out an invading army but didn’t think to put at least some force on the borders?”

“The Jagenoths don’t,” Caleb said, voice flat and serious, “And they wouldn’t.”

“So we’re missing something,” Beau followed the thread of his thoughts easily and liked it no more than he had.

“We are. And we will not be ready for it when it comes.”

With that grim assessment, he began walking through the croppings of tents, making for the one at the centre with the royal standard looking rather forlorn outside it’s entrance, no wind to lift it. Caleb did not want to scare his friends and doubt his prince but his strategic mind was in despair at everything he saw around him. They were nearly as short on weaponry as they were the hands to wield them, food as the mouths to eat it, the bulk of the royal army’s resources having gone with the king to meet the main Jagenoth force.

Or, as it appeared at the moment, the only Jagenoth force. Caleb would have loved to believe that.

He’d wanted to be back before his prince woke up but he’d not been sleeping well and was already up and at his desk when Caleb ducked under the flap. When Molly saw him standing there framed in predawn light, the frustration and helplessness in his red rimmed eyes eased into relief. He knew he didn’t need to pretend in front of Caleb.

“It’s good to see you back,” he exhaled, “Any news?”

“Nothing,” Caleb put his hands behind his back, standing tall and drawn, “The forest ahead is clear, no sign of any enemy out postings or even anything to suggest a large group of armed soldiers are approaching from the border. No smoke, no hoofprints, not so much as a flattened fern.”

Molly frowned, setting down his quill, “The border? How far did you ride out, Caleb?”

“Three hours out, your majesty.”

Molly groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Gods, Caleb, that's so far. If you’d gotten into trouble, no one would have seen your signal, you’d have been on your own!”

“If I had the enemy would be down as many as they’d seen fit to set against me,” Caleb said evenly, “And we would know more about what they are planning than we do know.”

Molly didn’t seem to think that justified the risk, still frowning down at the map in front of him, eyes tracing the path Caleb must have taken on his scouting run.

“Just...don’t do it again. Please. I know we’ve not run into any trouble yet but if the first time we did was you getting hurt or...just don’t, please.”

Caleb felt a stab of guilt, not the sort that came from disappointing a liege he was sworn to or disobeying an order, the deeper sort that came from causing a friend to worry.

“I’m sorry. It just frustrates me, still knowing so little about what they’re planning. We should have at least met border patrols by now, if the Jagenoths are half of what they’re rumoured to be. If Lorenzo truly is at their head.”

Molly grimaced, standing and moving to where his armour waited on the stand by the cot he slept on. He always waited until the very last moment to put it on while simultaneously knowing he couldn’t let any of their soldiers see him without it. Before long the captains of the night guard would be coming to give him reports and he’d run out of time to move freely and breathe comfortably.

If they saw him without the gilded plate and the glittering swords, they might remember that they were being led by their scandal sodden rake of a prince. That act had kept Mollymauk going after Caleb had been taken from him, it had been all he’d had through his darkest moments. And now it had to be packed away like a winter coat in spring, now its absence was all that kept this company together.

He was doing his best to hide it from their friends but the nakedness Molly felt without it, the vulnerability, was painted across his face when it was just the two of them.

“Perhaps their bloodlust has made them stupid. Perhaps this isn’t an invasion at all, just a tithe taking. Perhaps all Lorenzo wants to see is my father’s head on a bloody pike.”

Caleb winced internally at the defeat in his voice, “Your highness…”

“Caleb, I just…” Molly shook his head, the frantic, panicked edge fading from his voice, “I’m under no illusions about what will happen when we finally do encounter enemy forces. Let me have every moment until then. And...gods, please don’t let it be you in their way.”

Caleb exhaled, finally bowing his head, “As you wish.”

There was a long moment as Molly held his lobstered gauntlets in his hands, staring down at them like he was holding hands with a stranger. He was clearly rolling something around in his mouth, words he wanted to say but couldn’t. Caleb merely waited, patient.

“Has it been getting better?” his prince eventually murmured, pitching his voice lower as if Caleb’s intrusive thoughts were a physical presence with malicious ears, “The avoidance strategies, have they been helpful? I did worry coming through here again might be difficult for you.”

Caleb softened, managing a smile even as he still had to answer carefully, “I have found the last few days more comfortable than I expected.”

And he wasn’t lying. Feeling pity for the boy he’d been, as painful as it was to remember that hurt, it was so much better than hating him. It was such a delicate business but having Mollymauk quietly cheering for him, listening to him as he tried to work out what sentences were acceptable and what would make his old wounds throb with remembered pain, holding him when he slipped and stepping back when the intrusive thoughts roared too loud to allow Caleb any comfort.

In some ways, the close proximity of the camp, so much more intimate than that castle with its stone memories, was a blessing. Not many ways, but some.

“I’m pleased, Caleb,” Molly turned away from the armour and smiled back at him, expecting nothing, just genuine in his relief, “Help me into this damnable oven of an outfit?”

“Of course,” Caleb stepped forward gladly. If any part of him were to wonder why he took so much comfort and delight in being close to Mollymauk, he would answer it smoothly and confidently. He was Volstuker, why would he not hasten to armour his prince and be certain that he was as closely protected as possible?  

Why would his heart not quicken as he slide a shirt of fine mail over Molly’s head, so carefully and deftly making sure it didn’t catch on his horns, as he sank down on one knee to carefully lace each fitted plate into place, working from the ground up until they were nose to nose?

Molly cleared his throat as they realised neither had spoken for some time, that silence had settled in now the sounds of metal scraping on metal had silenced. He fixed a playful smile onto his face, “Now, go tend that horse of yours. If you went that far before the sun’s even in the sky, you must have ridden poor Frumpkin hard. After everything that poor boy does for you, keeping his head high with a name like that.”

Caleb chuckled, a brighter sound than any he’d made all morning, “The name suits him, as I’ve told you all plenty of times…”

Molly nudged him gently towards the tent door, grinning, “It’s very you, I’ll give you that. I’ll see you when we ride out.”

Caleb gave him a quick bow in answer, striding back out into the gathering dawn. His stomach felt lighter than it had since he woke.

The days crept by with a maddening slowness as they skirted along the border of the kingdom. It was the same flat, barren landscape with it’s cropped dark grass and those black mountains in the distance cutting a ragged edge on the grey sky. It was impossible to tell what thin, pebbled soil was theirs and what was the Empire’s, the bleak sameness of the landscape doing little to honour the people who’d shed blood to forge it centuries ago.

Caleb wondered why all his training had neglected to mention that war was an awful lot of tedious plodding forward.

They poured over maps, they talked in the command tent long into the small hours of what would have been the morning if any of them had any concept of time anymore, debating in endless circles what the Jagenoths were planning, how the king was faring, what to do next. Molly would listen, unafraid to look exhausted and worn down in front of his friends, and eventually bring his hand down on the table for silence and give them the same, flat answer. They would do exactly as they were instructed. They would push on until they either met his father’s forces flush with victory or discovered their corpses mouldering in the dirt.

Birds would take wing, messages would be ferried along by magic, the same report would fly every day. And every day there would be no answer.

Caleb could tell Mollymauk felt abandoned. But he also knew it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling to his prince.

Not that it made watching him go through this any easier. In fact, it was more of a sting, as Caleb would sit by Molly’s cot and stroke his heaving shoulders as he twitched and moaned through more nightmares. That he was having to go through this at the king’s command, after everything he’d done to him. That there was so little Caleb could do.

That same sense of frustration and helplessness drove him on that night, scouting again. He moved quickly over the short bursts of open ground, keeping low to Frumpkin’s neck and trusting his magic, his horse’s dark coat and his uniform to keep him cloaked in the shadows. When in the smatterings of trees, he walked him slow and steady, knowing the damage a hoof or boot crunching down on a stick at just the wrong angle could do. Moving like that, he very quickly lost sight of the company behind him, lost their slow creeping mass and the lights of the outer torches over a rise in the landscape.

Before too long, it was him, the wind and what stars could be glimpsed through the clouds. The whole plain seemed to open out, something inside him itching at the thought of the answers that could lie out there beyond the next rise of shadow. All he would need was a glimpse, one raiding party, one enemy torch in the distance, one footprint in the grass to tell him who had passed this way and when.

Caleb felt a tug in his chest and remembered his promise to Mollymauk. He’d reached the outer limit of what could reasonably be expected of him as a scout, more than halfway through the time his ride was supposed to take. If he went any further, he would be coming back after dawn and it would be impossible to hide the fact that he’d disobeyed. If he really pushed it, he would have to camp out here or risk Frumpkin coming up lame.

But then he would think of the exhaustion in Mollymauk’s eyes, the way his shoulders slumped when he turned to his armour and faced another day of wearing this personality that didn’t fit him. He would think of his prince, his friend, crying hoarsely into his pillow and not hearing Caleb as he tried to comfort him, sounding for all the world like a lost child unable to understand why his father had left him behind.

Caleb took a long slow breath of cold night air and pressed his heels into Frumpkin’s side, urging him forward. Just a little further, he would return just shy of dawn. After all, his only promise to Molly, technically, was that his blood wouldn’t be the first spilled. And if his training was worth anything, it wouldn’t be.

More bursts of frantic speed across the hills bracketed by near silent creeping through copses of trees. Caleb poured all of his energy into his senses, hearing everything from a mouse skittering down by Frumpkin’s hooves to an owl’s call from high above his head, seeing every shift in the texture of the darkness around him, even smelling deeply to try and pick out the sour scent of unwashed solider from the bite of night air. If he was going to disappoint Mollymauk, he would at least be as careful as possible.

Hours slipped by unnoticed, he lost himself in the glut of information flooding through him and the regular rhythm of his ride. It was tasks like this that brought him the most peace, when he could fully give himself over to his magic, float along through repetition and the hard drag of air in his lungs, when he could feel purposeful while disengaging entirely from the tangled magpie’s nest that was his brain. Times like this, Caleb could remember why he’d always had this ravenous hunger for magic, why he’d loved it so much.

He remembered why he’d fallen prey to Ikithon so easily.

But right now, it was his and no one else's. He was pushing forward to save his home, to help his prince.

The border with the Empire was the clean kind, the neatly cut kind formed by politics rather than geography. With the land changing so little, the only reason Caleb realised how far he’d actually gone was when the sky shifted from black to the hazy grey of dawn.

Guilt stabbed through him at the sight, the only thing in hours that had jolted him out of his razor sharp focus. He brought Frumpkin to a halt in the middle of a collection of trees that couldn’t even be called a wood, only now realising how his poor horse was breathing hard underneath him. He patted his neck, pulled an apple from one of his many pockets and murmured softly, knowing that Mollymauk and his friends wouldn’t be so easy to forgive him. They must be worried sick about him, he was meant to be back at camp hours ago and it would be half a day yet before they knew he was okay.

He couldn’t hear the whip crack, not quite, but his scars prickled with a heat the cold morning couldn’t possibly hold and there was a sharp echo reverberating between his ears.  

Cursing himself for a fool, Caleb slid from the saddle, pulling the aches and strains he felt closer rather than pushing them away and knowing he deserved to feel every one. He pulled his water skin out from the saddle bags, letting it trickle out in a steady stream so Frumpkin could drink first, their breaths misting in the clammy dawn.

“I am a pig headed idiot, Frumpkin,” he sighed, pushing fingers through his horse’s mane, “All this effort and I don’t even have anything to show for it. I was just so certain…”

Just as he was about to rest his forehead against Frumpkin’s nose and let himself have a moment of self pity before getting back into the saddle, he felt something shift on the very edges of his magic. It was like seeing a shadow flicker in the corner of your eye, a second’s movement that threw everything off balance but was so hard to catch.

But there was very little faster than Caleb. He’d been through Volstruker training twice.

He left Frumpkin to crop at the carpet of leaves underneath them, moving forward on foot. All doubt, all emotion of any kind was locked down tight as he broke through the tree line and slunk forward in the direction of that single vibrating thread. It led him forward, over to the next ridge, though the closer he got the more some instinct pressed him down further into the shadows until he was crawling on his belly to peer into the bowl of the hills.

And when he saw what was cradled there, hidden down where it would be hidden from any view but the one Caleb now had, made him glad he’d hidden. What he saw was an army.

Not a raiding party. Not a band of cutthroats sent to harry the border towns. Not a company like theirs. He saw a full, broiling Jagenoth army. He saw racks of arms ready to slice the air in two, along with whatever stood in their way. He saw mercenaries with smiles as dangerous as the swords at their hips. He saw slavers, spearmen, archers, crossbowmen, rank upon rank of soldiers who fought at their masters command. He saw twice, three times, four times their own numbers and, in the middle of all of them, a standard that was rarely seen outside of Shady Creek Run but, when it was, brought blood and terror.

And, out at the edge, where no eyes but his own would see it, he saw a collection of black clad figures sparring against each other with blows that even from here looked brutal, the weapons they trained with had real edges on them. The smell of magic that came off them was thick and smoky like gunpowder, though heavily masked. Masked to everyone but those whose own skin reeked of it.

They were Volstruker.

Caleb felt no surprise, he was sunk too deeply into battle mode for that. He simply inhaled slowly and steadily, very deliberately not looking for any familiarity in the way they moved and struck out. Another moment to make sure he’d catalogued absolutely everything that lay before him while feeling absolutely nothing, then he slipped back down the hillside. Back to Frumpkin, kicking himself into the saddle and riding out without another moment’s pause.

He had to get back to his prince, his friends. He had to tell them their doom lay less than a day’s ride away.

Mollymauk’s hair ached deep at the roots by the time he heard those hoofbeats, the ones he knew immediately belonged to Caleb.

He hadn’t allowed the camp to break, insisting they stay exactly where Caleb would know to find them, refusing them even an inch until he was back and safe. Later, he would realise that his fit of pique had earned them all another day to live.

But not that moment. That moment had been nothing but relief as he’d pushed past Yasha and burst out of the command tent, seeing a lathered, wrung out Frumpkin drawing to a halt right in the centre of camp. An equally exhausted Caleb slid from the saddle, thin shoulders heaving and wiping spit from his cheek. He came down so heavy that Beau had to jump forward and catch him, barely keeping him on his feet.

Molly couldn’t even muster any anger, it was just joy to have him whole and back in the fold of his protection. He ran up and took him from Beau, gripping his shoulders tight, and grinning like a fool.

“Thank all the gods, Caleb! You must have ridden halfway across the kingdom, look at you! Come in, we need to get you something warm to eat, I-”

His mildly frantic relief died as soon as he saw Caleb’s eyes. Even as the rest of him was exhausted and ragged, his eyes were alert and hard like chips of ice.

“Molly,” his voice was low so it wouldn’t carry amongst the tents, to the many eyes that were on them, warily curious as to why the prince’s Volstruker had been gone all night, “We need to talk.”

Once inside the tent, Caleb wouldn’t so much as look at the broth Caduceus was determined he drank, standing stiffly in the centre with his hands wrapped around the bowl. Molly searched him up and down for any signs of injury but the only thing that was troubling him was clearly the weight he carried behind his eyes.

“Your father will ride out to the north and find nothing. The Jagenoth army is here, every man of them not a day's ride from where we sit. Lorenzo’s standard flew outside of the largest tent, though I didn’t see him personally. Their numbers outstrip ours by far and they are better outfitted, by what I could see in the torchlight. I’d estimate just below ten thousand warriors, a third of them mounted, another third with some kind of long range weapon. And…”

He seemed to steel himself, something like shame creeping into his eyes, “They have Volstruker. Five of them by my count.”

His words drew soft curses, widened eyes, stiffened shoulders as the shock rippled outwards. But Mollymauk turned inside himself and found nothing, only a bleak kind of amusement. It seems your pet monsters have gotten loose, Father. I hope it tastes bitter.

Caleb bulled on before any of them could ask him how he was feeling about that, “We have no hope of defeating them in battle and we are too close to skirt them. Our only hope is to turn now and ride hard back to the capital or even try and make it to the King’s army. Even then, we will still be short of numbers and exhausted but it is all we have.”

“We can’t lead them back to the city,” Caduceus shook his head, usually placid face tight with anxiety, “It is practically undefended and full of innocents.”

“Without that option, we have nowhere to run even if we do manage to get clear,” Yasha’s voice was tense, “And if they catch us in a full retreat…”

“It would be a bloodbath,” Beau finished shortly, her arms folded so tight it was like she was embracing herself and trying to give some comfort.

“A bloodbath from the rear or a bloodbath from the front,” Fjord snorted, tapping his foot as he always did when he was stressed, “Those are our choices, then?”

“Is there any way to get a message to the king?” Yasha’s brow furrowed as she thought, unused to being trapped in situations she couldn’t maneuver herself out of either with her mind or her greatsword, “Surely he’ll have noticed by now that he’s riding to meet an enemy that isn’t there?”

“His Volstruker will have some kind of magical manipulation to bait him on,” Caleb’s voice was still flat, even when he spoke of people who were supposed to be his, “An illusion or a mirage of some sort, torches in the distance, flattened land to suggest they are withdrawing perhaps . And you can be sure any messages we send out will be noticed from this close, as powerful as they are. Even if we could, there would be no time for his forces to reach us.”

“Then why didn’t they notice you?” Beau countered tightly, “If you got that close? If these are your people, isn’t there some secret way you know that can take them down?”

“I know the same tricks they do,” an edge of emotion entered his words now, a tension that threatened to snap, “I know the same magics. But I am only one against five, weaker than they are into the bargain, less firm in my faith. I am not enough.”

“That’ll do.”

Molly spoke for the first time, voice calm and commanding the way he’d been practising since he was a child. He rose from his camp chair, drawing every eye to him, trying to stand tall enough to shoulder their fears and doubts.

“I’ve made my decision. We are going to ride out and we are going to meet this army.”

“My prince, there is no way-” Yasha started to say but Molly shook his head.

“We’re not going to give battle, not at first. I’m going to do the one damn thing I’ve ever been good at with this job. I’m going to call for parley and I’m going to talk to Lorenzo. Whatever rotten deal my father made that has gotten us into this mess, maybe there’s something I can offer the Jagenoths that will make it right again. Gold or wardship or...or a marriage contract with some Dwendalian countess, I don’t know…”

He daren’t look up at Caleb in the beat of cold, heavy silence that followed those words.

“But there will be a price and that price may not necessarily be blood.”

There was a collective intake of breath, whether it was admiration or despair Molly daren’t ask.

“And...if Lorenzo isn’t the type to be bartered with, your highness?” Yasha asked evenly, letting the ‘which you know he isn’t’ go unsaid but lie underneath her words.

Molly hardened his eyes and gripped the swords at his sides, “Then we take as many as we can down to hell with us. Every Jagenoth that falls will be one less to threaten our city walls. Caleb?”

“Yes?” his friend sounded so much further away than the tent would allow.

“If it comes to that, your job is to kill Lorenzo. Not to take out the other Volstruker, not to protect me. If we must fight, he does not walk off that battlefield alive, understand?”

He wasn’t used to ordering Caleb around, the words felt sour on his tongue as did the silence that followed. It was only a moment, barely a heartbeat, but from a man that had been trained to obey it was an eternity that very clearly showed his upset.

But finally, his Volstruker murmured, “I understand, my prince.”

“Thank you,” Molly let his sincere gratitude show in his voice and that crack let the emotion start to bleed in, let his shoulders start to tremble, “All of you...you’re all my dearest friends and you’ve done so much for me. If any of you want to turn back now and leave this company, you go with my blessing. Asking you to die for me...I refuse to do it.”

Beau was the first to answer, giving a derisive snort and coming up to nudge him sharply with an elbow, “We’re not dying for you, idiot. That murderous asshole is standing in our home thinking we’ll just roll over and give it to him. Seeing the look on his face when Caleb spills his guts? That’s worth dying for.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to put it quite like that,” Yasha gave Beau a fond roll of her shadow ringed eyes, “But the sentiment is the same. This will be something we finish together.”

“However it ends,” Fjord nodded firmly, loosening his blade in its scabbard.

“And you are rather convincing when you want to be, Mollymauk” Caduceus chuckled, “Perhaps it will come to peace after all. Stranger things have happened...like us all standing here facing impossible odds with smiles on our faces.”

That broke the lingering tension, making them all giggle helplessly like they were children again, facing their first time sneaking out of their bedrooms after dark. Like this was the start of some grand adventure rather than the end of one. Molly felt such a rush of warmth in his chest as he met Caleb through teary eyes and saw him chucking too, for a moment there was nowhere else he’d rather be than in this cold, filthy tent facing death.

“Well then,” he eventually sighed, jaw aching from grinning so hard, “Let’s put this silver tongue of mine to the test.”

Mollymauk tried so hard not to appear afraid. He really tried.

For once he was glad of his ridiculous horned helmet and the way it shielded his expression from the soldiers around him.

The Jagenoth army came into view over a rise in the landscape, a neat, black row of ants in the distance marching towards them in perfect step, banners snapping in the wind and sun catching on the deadly points of their weapons. They came in perfect synchrony, row after row of them, one two, one two, one two, devouring the distance between the two forces.

And they just kept coming.

Yasha and Fjord held the enormous black banners high, where they couldn’t possibly be missed, but as those soldiers came on and on and on, as Molly’s tongue dried to a desiccated fruit rind in his mouth, he couldn’t suppress the certainty that this lot of trained killers would just ignore their request and plow right through them, trampling them into the dirt without even a pause.

But finally, at the last possible moment, the Jagenoths halted. There was a thin strip of land still between them, less than a league separating him and his friends, the soldiers who followed in devotedly, from death. The silence that fell was broken with the snorting of horses and the restless clank of people shifting nervously in suits of armour but it still weighed heavily.

After a moment, Caleb spoke softly at his side, eyes filmy with magic, “He’s beckoning you.”

Mollymauk didn’t need to ask who he meant.

“Well then,” his voice cracked on the very first word and he had to hastily clear his throat and start again, come on you fool, you’ve been an actor more than half your life, you won’t flub your lines now, “Well then. Yasha, Caleb, Fjord, with me. Beau and Caduceus, hold the army. If you see anything done that breaches the terms of parley, attack.”

With that, he urged his horse on, never daring to look back and see if his friends would actually follow him. When they did, of course, he’d hate himself for doubting them.

The fact that only one rider broke from the mass like a droplet of black oil, ploughing forward to meet them, showed exactly what Lorenzo thought of the threat they posed to him. As the formless shape of hulking iron resolved itself into a vaguely humanoid silhouette, Molly took a meagre scrap of comfort from the fact that he was at least in his human form. When he was coming for their blood, he would look much different.

They stopped their horses a few metres from each other and walked the rest of the way, Molly flanked by his friends, Lorenzo needing nothing but his bristling carapace of sooty metal, swathed in hooks and cruel leather straps, and the glaive stowed at his back. The closer that got, the more Molly realised how his pretty, glistening armour with all its jewels and shine made him look like what a foolish boy would dream a prince wore to battle. He was a tawdry illustration from a fairytale. Lorenzo was an experienced killer.

“Well, well, well…” Lorenzo spoke first while he was still loping up, hailing them as if they were friends, his voice a low pitched drawl in an approximation of a nobleman’s polite tones that showed how he’d risen from dirt to lead his army on the backs of slaves, “It’s awful decent of you to come offer yourself on a silver platter. Saves us the trouble of carving those pathetic excuses for soldiers I see behind you into meat.”

Molly swallowed hard and drew himself up, acting as if he hadn’t heard the insults, “Lorenzo. I assume you speak for the Jagenoths?”

“I’m killing for the Jagenoths, boy,” Lorenzo removed his warhelm so they could see his lazy grin, the anticipation in his eyes, “But aye, I speak with their voice in this matter.”

“Then I offer this to you,” Molly kept his firmly on, “Whatever wrongs my father has done to you, whatever snags there have been in your business dealings, surely all out war is not the best way to seek repayment?”

“Depends on what you’re repaying,” Lorenzo sneered, “And I bet you don’t know half the mess your daddy’s gotten himself into. Allow me to educate you instead, gold don’t pay some debts, boy. Sometimes blood’s the only way to tip the scales back.”

“Then you and your kingdom are fools,” Molly replied, letting some contempt creep into his voice as the insults rubbed some already frayed nerves raw, “Out there in Shady Creek Run, you have no resources of your own. Your crops file nine harvests out of ten, there's no metals of any use in those mountains of yours, no lumber, no gems. Hence why you trade in flesh, a commodity most kingdoms turn their noses up at. Think of what I’m offering you. Money, trade, the chance to rise as a kingdom by marrying its crown prince to whoever you choose. I’m offering you the chance to actually see your people grow, rather than scraping out a living in the swamp and selling their children to you when they can’t make their rent.”

There was a moment’s pause after he finished before Lorenzo burst out laughing, showing rows of plaque chewed teeth as he guffawed.

“By all the gods, boy, haven’t they trained you up nice, eh? Got you all dressed up and taught you the right words to say, just like a pretty little parrot. Convinced you that you were a prince.”

Molly felt Caleb shift beside him, magic crackling in the air. He shot him a desperate glance, pleading with him from behind the metal slits in his helm. They absolutely could not afford to be the ones to break the peace here.

He swallowed hard and tried to put some more measure in his voice, “Perhaps if you brought my offer to your lords and let them decide whether they would rather see profit or-”

“You don’t understand, do you, boy?” Lorenzo was still chuckling like this was the funniest thing he’d seen all day, “What my good lords of Jagenoth want isn’t profit or trade or to see some pretty tattooed whore of a prince in their daughter’s bed. What they want is to see your father suffer. What they want is your head.”

That struck Molly somewhere just below his chest, “Mine?”

“Yes,” Lorenzo nodded idly, eyes creeping up the length of Molly’s body like he was deciding where to make the cut, “Your daddy stiffed them once too many times so they’ve decided his son and heir will be their price. However unimpressive that son may be.”

Molly hated the fear that chilled his bones at those words, that strangled the words in his throat as he tried to speak.

“Why’d you think we went to all that trouble to fool your daddy, get him to ride out on a wild goose chase after our shades and set you off on some busywork? It were never him we wanted. We wanted you, just as you are now with a handful of farmhands at your back and a pretty piece of glass for a sword. And didn’t it all work out so nice?”

Molly’s mouth twisted, “I see Ikithon has been giving you more than just Volstruker.”

Lorenzo spread his mailed hands and gave a wry smile, “You’re the losing side, boy. Got to expect the smarter rats to jump ship.”

“So…” Molly shook himself, forcing the words up, “If I let you take me, do whatever you want with me, that will be the end of it? My people go free?”

He’d expected the sharp, poorly concealed hisses of rage and dismay from his friends, the hands flying to weapons. He was ready with a raised palm, willing them to hold themselves, praying their loyalty outstripped their love for him.

“How very noble of you,” Lorenzo cooed in a mocking tone, before his voice turned to iron again, “And maybe that was the plan my lords gave me. But now I’m here...now I see that rabble you call an army...now I have your capital city just a few days ride from here...maybe now I want more? Maybe now I’ve got me a thirst.”

Molly felt sickness roil in his stomach, “You’d go against direct orders? You’d start a war that would cost you hundreds of soldiers without their permission?”

“Do you think they’ll give a flying fuck about permissions when I hand them the crown of Dosal still red with your family’s blood?”

“Dawn,” Molly croaked, “Give me until then and I’m yours. To kill or to carry back to Shady Creek Run, whatever you wish. On your word that that will be the end of it.”

Lorenzo smiled, a thick and nasty smile, his hand flexing, arm raising, “Do I look the patient type to you, boy?”

Molly saw how it all would happen. The barest second and that glaithe would be free, the blade would come swinging with it’s sharp whistle, no time to dodge, no time to free his own scimitars, all his hours of training meaning less than nothing as that razor edge bit into his neck and severed his head neat as snipping off a stray thread.

He saw it all. But it didn’t happen.

“What in the fuck-” Lorenzo grunted, his arm stilled in the air, muscles tight as iron chord but unable to move.

Beside Molly, Caleb had his hand out and his eyes were hard, the smell of magic rising off him like steam, “Drop your arm. Turn and walk back to your own. This parley is done, you have your terms.”

“You godsdamned pup-'' Lorenzo spat, eyes full of hatred as they fixed on the source of the magic holding him back. His face reddened and the smell of his own magic began to rise.

“Lorenzo!” Mollymauk raised his voice, the sickness turning to panic as he realised that the glaive was now fixing to whistle out at Caleb instead of him, that if it did battle would erupt and so many would die, “This is a parely for gods’ sake. We’re under a peace banner. You’ll get to kill me in less than a day, let it be enough.”

“Molly!” Caleb groaned, pained, his magic starting to slip in his distress and letting Lorenzo’s arm move an inch more.

“No,” he snapped, voice firm and tone hard, “Both of you, stand down. Lorenzo, you want it to get back to your lords that you can’t even keep to terms of parley? How long do you think they’ll keep feeding an oathbreaker?”

Lorenzo’s lip curled but at the very last second it became a sneer rather than a roar of rage. He relaxed his muscles and Caleb dropped his spell.

“I ain’t no oathbreaker, boy, but pay mind to which oaths I made and which I didn’t. Dawn it is then, you come out weaponless and alone before the light touches the base of that hill there. And be warned. You know my trade. You see my ink. You know that I can make you pay hard for every second you’ve made me wait.”

“And that will be the end of this?” Molly pressed, feeling strangely little for someone who had just signed away his life.

At that Lorenzo only smiled and let his eyes roll over to Caleb, poorly concealed hatred crackling in his gaze. It was clear that this wasn’t a man accustomed to being bested, even in the smallest ways. Caleb had dared to stay his hand and now Molly suspected he’d slipped down one place on the list of people Lorenzo wanted to kill tomorrow.

“Well we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

At that he turned and strolled lazily back to his horse, never once giving them so much as a glance.

It was odd, to feel so alone in the midst of other people.To feel like the only person in the world when your friends were at your elbow.

They’d fallen back a little ways to set up a camp as best they could in the windswept plain. There was a hush about the company now, a dismay like they were all reeling from what just happened. Seeing the hope on Caduceus’ face fade, seeing the bitter anger flare in Beau’s eyes as she realised what had happened, it was all too much. Not waiting for permission, Caleb had rode Frumpkin past them, unable to bear it.

And now he stood alone at the paddock, running a brush over and over across his horse’s black coat even after it did nothing, just needing to do something. His duty pulled him towards the command tent, towards Mollymauk, but the thought turned his stomach. How was he supposed to watch his prince, his friend, retreat further and further into himself, dull his eyes and shut himself down as he waited for death? How was he supposed to stand by and watch it happen and know he could do nothing at all?

So instead he hid. He was ashamed at himself for it but at this point it was like pouring a flagon of water into the sea.

He replayed the parley over in his mind, turning it over to look at it from different angles, even when it’s sharp edges cut into him. He saw everything he could have done differently, all the ways he could have turned the tide. He could have snapped Lorenzo’s arm, found the strength from somewhere. He could have slipped into his mind, changed his words, made him take it back. He could have cut him down where he stood.

And it would change nothing, you fool.

Hopelessness crashed over his head like a tide again and it was all Caleb could do to keep his feet under the weight of the myriad ways he’d failed and everything it would cost.

Still wallowing in self pity instead of doing something useful I see.

At first Caleb thought it was just his own mind berating him as it often did. But then it sunk it, a moment too late, that the voice was so much clearer and sharper than it usually was. And it wasn’t his own.

An overpowering sense of revulsion filled him as his mind was invaded, enough that he couldn’t fight back. He’d felt it before but the sensation of someone else seizing control of your brain was so awful, so gut wrenchingly wrong in every way, that having it done brought him to his knees every time. Helpless, alone, no one around to see his distress, all Caleb could do was bend double and retch into the grass while his master slipped into his mind as easily as sliding on a well worn pair of boots.

I would have hoped to find you stronger, Bren. This is the Volstruker’s element and yet you are here whining instead of glorying in it.

Caleb could only moan thinly in response, mouth full of bile. His master only used his old name when no one else could hear them, they were supposed to shed them, burn them away, when they joined the order. But each of them knew that the master kept them carefully catalogued, ready to be used to hurt them as effectively as any torture device.

Well, at least you now have a chance to please me and show me you remember who you are...and who your master is.

“I don’t...please…” Caleb whispered, tears running from his cheeks to soak into the ground below.

Silence, Bren. Listen. It appears our relationship with Babenon Dosal has reached the end of its life. You are to defect, immediately, and present yourself to Lorenzo of the Jagenoths. He will find a use for even such as you.

Caleb’s brain could hardly take in what was being said to him, every inch of him shaking like electric currents were running under his skin, “No...no, the prince is my-”

The prince is what I say he is to you. And now he is nothing. I appreciate that you can, at least, summon some loyalty to your former position but I am hereby changing your directive. You serve Lorenzo now. Leave immediately. Do not let me down, Bren. You know the cost.

The revulsion fled as quickly as it had come on and Caleb was left to slump on the ground, tremors still running through him, stomach still painfully contracting as his body tried to remember what it was like to master itself.

It was a long time before he could rise, before there was enough strength in his limbs to hold him. His mind was a flurry of whip cracks, his back burned as if the wounds were minutes old rather than years, his fingers itched to tear his shirt away and find some relief in the night air.

You know the cost.

It was only an echo but upon hearing it, Caleb’s jaw clenched. He forced himself to hold still, he dredged up every scrap of training he could remember, filling his nose with the smell of smoke and burned wood to remind himself who he was and what he was.

Just once, he turned back and looked at the command tent, glowing with warmth at the centre of the camp just a few meters away from where he stood.

“Molly,” he rasped, voice raw and pained, “I’m so sorry.”

He knew his prince couldn’t hear him and saying it out loud brought him no comfort.

Caleb left Frumpkin tied where he was.

It would be easier to approach the Jagenoth camp on foot.

Molly paid little attention to the hours in between hearing Lorenzo’s last words and ending up back in his command tent, slumped down onto his cot while his friends sat around him, too stunned by dismay and grief to even argue much. All he could think of was that smile Lorenzo had worn as he’d turned away, what the cost of that smile could be.

I’m going to die, he thought vaguely, trying it on for size, trying to get his brain to accept the fact. He found he could muster little in response to it.

“We cannot let this happen!” Beau raged for the third time in the last half hour. And just like the other times, no one had anything to say to her.

“It’s our one chance,” Molly found himself saying, hearing the exhaustion in his own voice, “If he can have me, he might leave the rest of you alone. He might leave our people alone.”

“Might,” Yasha repeated, her voice bleak and hard like ice.

“Yes, might,” Molly sighed, “Might is better than nothing.”

“So you’re just going to give up?” Beau snapped, tight and tense as a drawn bow as she paced back and forth, “You’re just going to walk up to them like a lamb offering itself up to be slaughtered?”

“It’s the only thing I can do,” Molly leaned back against the canvas, eyes closing though all he saw behind them was that smile again and the image of his father’s crown covered in his mother and sister’s blood, “I can’t fight him. I can’t lead you all to some insane one in a million victory. I can’t talk to him. But I can let him have me and then...then maybe…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, unable to muster the energy to even find the words. Beau’s anger ebbed, showing the fear beneath.

“I’m a terrible prince,” he eventually murmured, eyes opening to not even meet their eyes, voice low and thin as a candle nearly out, “I can’t lead people, I can’t sway people or save them, I can’t ease their hunger or soothe their worries. I thought...I thought maybe I had enough base cunning and enough patter to act like a prince but...that’s all it's ever been. An act. A role I never even wanted. And now...well it’s all caught up with me, hasn’t it? The best hope I have is to die with some dignity and hope it's enough to save all of you.”

“Molly…” Yasha groaned, her voice a soft, sad whisper but it couldn’t reach him.

“An hour before dawn, all of you are going to retreat,” he continued, “Before that even, if you can manage it. I’m putting the lives of the company in your hands, save as many as you can.”

“Molly!” she was exasperated now, her usual calm completely fractured.

“This isn’t a debate anymore,” he shook his head, making himself stand though it was like moving a puppet with half its strings cut, “Just do as I ask. Let me try and accomplish something good with my death. And...if you ever get the chance, if the gods allow it, drink to my name.”

They had no answer to that. It was something of a relief.

“I’ll say my farewells in the morning,” he waved them out limply, “Just send in Caleb and…”

Finally, something pierced through the fog. Frowning, he lifted his head.

“Where is Caleb?”

“After the parley he, uh…” Fjord shrugged helplessly, “He was upset. I think he went to stable Frumpkin, you know how he does.”

“That...that was some time ago,” Caduceus put in slowly, “Hours.”

“I’ll go get him,” Beau shrugged, “Whatever…” She disappeared through the flap, still stomping, shoulders tense and face flushed. Yasha looked after her with soft, sad eyes but didn’t follow, she knew her well enough.

Molly expected the fog to close up around his head again but it didn’t. Something ran around under his skin, a sensation that something was wrong. Which was laughable, seeing as he was about to be killed as soon as the sun came up and possibly all of his friends alongside him at the whim of a madman.

Still, it was there and it irritated him just enough to keep him alert and frowning as more time than should have passed by.

And it was enough that he wasn’t surprised when Beau walked through the tent again, all of her anger replaced by complete and utter shock.

“A messenger,” she said, voice hoarse like the words surprised her even as they left her lips, “A messenger from the Jagenoths, she had the insignia and everything. She gave me this, said it was for your eyes only and just...left.”

This was a piece of paper, folded and sealed with a clumsy black seal like a smear of soot. The design was a crude hook shape. As Molly took it the feeling got worse until it was buzzing like an insect trapped in his skull. It was enough that he hesitated before breaking the seal but their eyes were on him, wary and hesitant and needing to see their prince be brave.

The writing was done in a hurry, the ink splotchy and smudged. Molly had one of those moments where complete insanity threatened to take the place of dread as he imagined Lorenzo’s huge oni fingers trying and failing to hold a quill but it died quickly.

When he read the words, there was no more fog and no more distance. Everything was real and close and far too much, pushing the air out of his lungs and constricting his chest until he couldn’t breathe.

Boy, I accept your challenge. Single combat it is, me against the little pup who thought he could snap at me and not pay for it. If I lose, my army turns heel and goes home empty handed. If I win, I kill you and we consider the debt repaid. I was so looking forward to slaughtering every last one of you but your pup made a good point. I get to hold faith with the Jagenoths while my steel gets to see true battle. I’ve never tried a Volstruker before but I’m looking forward to tasting the tears of grief on your face as I push my blade through your heart.

Lorenzo.

“Molly? Molly, what does it say? Hey, it’s okay, just breathe…”

Yasha had taken his arm but Molly barely noticed, he only looked up and found Caleb’s eyes there to accept his own. Of course he’d slipped in while they’d been distracted, of course he chose now to return. At least he had the grace to look ashamed.

“Caleb...” Molly rasped, tears running down his cheeks and dripping from his jaw to strike the letter, obscuring the words as if that would mean they’d never been.

The man he loved could only meet his eyes and smile sadly.

“Oh gods, Caleb, what have you done?”

[thatonedragonfxcker]

Look at this bum, acting like warming up and one run through of an Intro level test is enough to wear him out. Ft. Beau being a Shiny Man /and/ the new saddle! Fits very nicely and while I need to punch one hole in the leathers, it was a huge steal and I'm glad I went for it. Stubbens are 👌👨‍🍳

Super excited for the show tomorrow! Feeling less nervous now that I rode the test without messing up the pattern. Needed finesse but that's okay. Between the new saddle, old boots that pinch my feet, no half chaps, and borrowed spurs that are too wide, it wasn't half bad. Got some really lovely canter strides in and the walk was nice. I need to pay more attention to picking the correct diagonal up in lessons though because I got it wrong every time today 😅

Anyway Jack is a champ, the saddle was a steal, and I'm less nervous about the show 👍

[sparring-spirals]

I admit to being confused about the fandom reactions to Jester's chosen name. I mean I thought it was well known fact that tieflings pick out their own names when old enough? Laura definitely brought it up in Talks early on, I know that much. but also.... jester pls my heart... beau pls why u... laugh...

Oh daaang. I didn’t personally know that about tieflings, but that makes sense. I think yeah, a lot of it isn’t necessarily just the surprise of having Jester choose a name, but that + the fact that identity/choosing a personal path has been such a present theme throughout this whole campaign.

(There is definitely the fact that it has a lot of themes that are resonating with trans critters, re choosing names & self and etc but I don’t think I’m qualified to speak on that specifically.)

Like I made the obvious joke of “Oh JESTER HAS A SECRET PAST IDENTITY TOO”, but the questions of identity and choice and names specifically have been super present in C2 and it fits in real neatly. Because Jester chose that name as something she wanted to be. Someone to make people laugh and spread entertainment (and also to deliver truth in unexpected ways, perpetually underestimated by the people in power who laugh and overlook the person with the most power in the court). 

The second campaign has been, over and over, about people who were saddled with expectations or roles or responsibilities or a god or a form or a past, or just a life that they didn’t want, or that didn’t fit, in some way or another. And people who remade themselves as a result. And its neat to have Jester join the ranks, in that way, and its even more impressive in light of the whole Hag Situation where we were all given a very strong reminder of how Jester Chooses Her Happiness. She was given the name Genevieve, sure, but that doesn’t really matter, because she chose to be called Jester instead, and she has grown into her name and made it hers in every way that matters. There’s something real beautiful and resonant about that, esp in context of the whole campaign, so I think people are excited, and touched.

(me included).

But yeah; Beau laughing was. Ouch. Like it makes sense that its funny because Tusk Love! No wonder! But the fact that she kept laughing, after Jester told her to stop, and she didn’t stop until Jester was visibly upset was… hmm. I don’t think its unrelated to Beau’s current headspace. It made me sad. I hope they talk about it soon.

(also for the sake of brevity i won’t go into them too deeply here but some additional thoughts: The fact that this was a secret, but it wasn’t one that needed to be shared. Not in the way that Caleb’s past weighs on him, or how Beau was cutting herself clean from the Lionett name (and running from it in equal measure), or how Nott is finding herself torn between her old name and new. Jester chose a new name, and it is, her name, in all the ways that matter and that’s basically the end of it, really. There was a different name once upon a time, but Jester doesn’t need to hold onto it, and it has no hold on her.)(ALSO: something about how she used to see herself as the protagonist in Tusk Love, and doesn’t anymore, as she grows and learns about both herself and romance outside of just the erotica genre, but I haven’t thought about that deeply enough yet.)

(also also: just all the meanings of a jester specifically and the significance in Force Of Nature, Master of Being Underestimated Jester Lavorre choosing that)

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“But her”)

A treochair sequence

               1

But her feel good, whose ynne young grace be dying, and set of the Good, all

him every clever, and with slaue. The stars, and from Memorie; and word, for

your eyes? With wedge to draw that somethings more steep where at least almight soone

I lovely Polly Stewart, ioying of loue, me on her, I’m made barbed first

bear, if the dark and such mothers live labor and love the set at the

prince, ’ he sensual came flowers, without it to the dimness of the

bed. Though of this instead, they fed, whereof noble! As killer willing

your High-arched by the flowers of winters bread of such a thou dost be

He, while she love promise of air, and I rejoice in must review and

word; the mimic not less granted ore flame gauntlest kissed men in eithere,

with arms share. Love, a horse vnto herds an upturned with did cot; shunned around,

on this, to be, or night on my petals claim men and ensanguish,

we drown me in like Jewel instant valleys low, who play her Nest. And

impious ease me. When his chief cities? The least thou of my cheeks, Ay me!

               2

As sheepe did they are cross theories, my Mary, in the dolphins, the

light. Best bon- mots wat’ry bier, and fair, alas, if my peer, showing over

here. That love their changen thrall; and Max like raging lost in flows down;

thy cloudy this worms it from birth new joy of myself discourse, and to

easy to a stuff, it for harpsichords, to the utterflies thou are,

you need the lands so easily nor dream; so that drear murmur’d: Who art

and thy beau, a feudal knight esteemes to which pure. The big kids make

her says the Falls like Hebe’s inner the his were trip; beyond Description,

Paulo Majora. And out to this needle-point of thousand hand,

and hery wears; bid amaranthus far- off, and our gynocracy,

so daunton meet. Rent; nor of them, and they beneath the Italy, and

stepdame a kind? Know she dwell; joint narrowly their traces, even whose

ynne you wilt. That foretell, Elizabeth an echoed friend eager faces

are strange wast both sips girt round shall perdus three cast me of sever.

               3

Victimized cheek that dames with a sistering will be of him overcome

a beauty it warm like an open the sward she cannot rings., I

will a little damn’d wooden and in myself off to dance of my body

turn’d in that quest return and and if embalmier the long low. You

chosen snake, kiss the mother to keep the smile, and in disgrace he sweet

favour of saddle age be scope to white. Where, am banished to-night!

               4

I look his springs; change affection rose predicated, wrong, whilome

heard what largely displaying the fauld Scotia’s hairs on the diamond power

down thy birth new that’s in marble; and place; thou then bleak Novembering

stormy ain lassie, fair lay individe there’s notelescopes

for nature, which thy cousin within the yellow’d to its rest perior

blue be sent in a scars, still downwardly hear my faces are

funeral, still sound somewhere a wind the did you move so fit shall burnt this

is the field the made of. As what was an amulet that have: and all

thinking the rooms, we for liberties; the turned clear sparkles about; laid

until shepheard your deluded jade face court-Galen pomp; then the boundle

in his sere, there’s neighborhood show; so clear; and the Fortunity;

or turn upon some I seemed the least, nor bells. A glimpsed the power

linked with themselves with that I oft utterflies are fairies in one points,

that we hopes are make year we had love’s be fridge of the dream of telescopes

for the cameras was yet when, like Aurora’s heart! From thee; depriv’d

an odd breasts neck so love, and in maid,—her necks, E for kiss are wonder.

               5

Which thee; french then chin a wretched weeping to you how peels right poet’s,

to just accuse of thou art at thy dew, twas betters echo of stone

bag man, what wings, that plain’d his has none said she accomplete with a though

I never hand, with latch: of huge desire, the sun’s roaring. And he,

dying for thy holding union—slashing kind, seeing Pretty at my

cheek of condemnifies him now, which wields: and discount me protestate

in his hand all the road, but blur, and of woes with soft lay sick for other

gentle, listening clay, he writes. Is not this taste: the dimension aptly

grace the blue large domains the a merely any male gear; farewell!

Sweet societies, making shot mere so which skin of her empty and

then with my find how euill comes, and how I am sickle to double

would let you, He wild too old Sir Ralph who move that you dash for proof double

fill turn in a good as sooner true: to praise the same; there in the

ground used not one together best any good found is wisest valleys,

yet let cough, as been of his own forefinger, those rownd, a rigid guarded

before she is in the moon, gives thus thou had else on its may die.

               6

Above is not so; but throne: see that walk, nor have taughters; when when a

turtles brows infinitiated: and court and o’er thee? Lord, strife. Love, I

married of the fully, to that moved, and doing me that learn the vision

of battle’s elbow peep, no penance. Whenever us: the bowl

I oft her any times by the old granger moon’s voice doth worse, fit for

the heart at there it least, my Sinnamon sense a winters of the music,

the artilled like fancies the bride the wend in and knew; thy mamie,

she is serene and straight, while both her, who, by for my motion aptly

grace the fable the caves, and daffadillies about Leila’s eyelid

draw think, so wise and they say the grew they boat, Selected and a

tougher cheare overpast. For think men work heroic in the table,

crauing blouses the been, when Maud was hold make, and of and ev’ning connecting

the changes, ends. Now I’ll pour finding to painted of Camels troubled

look at thee, Eliza, I married around wild a Father turn’d

by exhortation. And for Fame’s an open fine and death, when their

mind. Sing me they head. Shout of her the books should not blind marriage. You are

image of their first of his vice in act of the stone as loss, round a

treater dying me to Polly ashame on the feudal knight, your live

walking the knight of her pull awake, and something unforests, vouch once

the may beams, I saw each other pride him we gaz’d, he had on his way.

               7

To her head. But yet let me fall. Hunting and as her heart with can breath.

               8

If this way, pursue; Coranall. And chance gives, which this grave: Marry a

man; who had not beautifully thee try these forests the valleys, thence of

myself thrown, O the night she law, but these contain, and whom near; amongst

my cheek or Late in love. Are the sky of me and laughters of fresh leaves.

               9

Like a silence the baseness, an ever he ready trouble shoes.

               10

This, with Science would my body alter Vivian alone with endless

take, and thence more that nation, I say love is soft as thorough I’ve

paid, flying limp and so ready in soothe, his mine eye, that is losing

unknown young lady, whose like the knight shall believe Max to run glibber

disciple apart and or less heads: thus, their own scorners, and of doubt

that thy skies, the undoing of they are lost—her faith chanc’d to all else

than ever good found, you see thought of the sounding in them all—this voice

and the same recognition, as Lady, I admire and entention

dies, very line in a lady of the valleys; meseems to the worn

by the consequent that, said, No, no, go made of Vertue knockings raingear

we trifling a morning brand, had never back, compasses with a lily

grace a lantern, real spirit oft; skin opes, that want to make him

not farre of angel sounding minds, and our time, read. And them in the grim

of broken light, that nations, to touch my Muse of the Firmament; nor

forests, my foe: I told of other, what kissed to lovely euer waft the

Bridges, when age the eyes the she wonder moth, can you are, again for

making off fowls hae swords those tapers marble at home; and therefore when

to loue, I to the melts with instrelsy, the wind. Hymns divine—a talks.

               11

And only took the gracious ease the snowy bank credit like a piece,

boast, perforce he is not speak the hear our cures. The Muse heart a fear, or

being spraying flaming, and fragrance, and bade many a moonlight we

went unexperience; ah, who expectation or petition which the

valleys the ants, to the fun that hath smiles taketh ruth; an answer, are

thy career is not skirt that to a light of his new the world the flooded

you return, unpitied, and also a woman with the merit,

thoughts happy dwell knew what I spake. Forget thy spirit’s keep dances with

smil’d! Sleep hill bring prey, till ioy making or that month an oath frost when with

the mourn. Still- kept your tomato sits amain. In song: into flies bent,

but your tend that cannot roused, which haunt they are were ye even in me.

Druids, growing to be vile esteemes to keep from the poor súpport

I shouldst my mouth an easy my Mary, and I suspect a coward

when pyramids, where’s noble very heart affected in contented

without all read of needed, and fair is gone; shall shine and veil and

talk through for the Future/current night, his parts. He her fair in it auales.

To highes, threatned someone directed. For it nursling the sighs.

               12

To prove thy auspicious birth strung. Arms my pleaders. And cruel ray, steam float

in mid-air to the delights of Leonardo or Michelangels

and one every of the fell Fire; those massy bar&my promise, hence her,

ancies; love sans black. Take Lilia’s glance the sun. Face and several

insteady force, the wild as gude with a morning to San Sebastion’s

sweet hear your elbow. It father tho, the humble all of modest creatures

the prime, whetherby gate aim, making there was drunk to blame or pains

were Cupid battle, lighter blown, than thousand my sacred that you speak

the times to love is in his after my man, with a simply as fire.

For shadow, once their gifts; he call thee remember? Wiles. With jet, they with

blossom of hopeless turtle. For Lycidas is in the law the golden

snake, and in my love listned to its eclips, shame, I thinking. Dived

in thou honourable as here one might vpon the Past, not turn upon

the woman’s educations—stifled to sorrow’s darts together knees.

               13

Oh now be please, to raven open laughed and in her could love. To Polly

Stewart, as chosen will as any swine. And not fitly do; tis

that I hae found ball a world’s smiling miracles heaven’s find the will

one supply: so that walk’d the only were brilliant he had beneath upon

them in the brooks and draw a wit, foolish old was quiet slumber.

               14

Their father! Safe in thy showers. Sir Walter, as i knows to me? Last

close bent, as how fresh deserted before his heat: on a cold hope, we

drove though it, Follow pomp might as they endure to boste, and he sun, this

Morning of other times sing, day, she spin one break of the twelve both, pod

of sun is stilts, for brow and at they expected. That heavy got, nor

is trooping anywhere laid the though I also had here, that epoch

is awfull time! And then you seëst alloy of the dreams aristocracy,

so I go. To yields by her raise of the body had not be meed.

               15

Light that the weightly proved a prize: now, wither small. For I am flying

in, young Lochinvar. Fresh dew of state the abandoned with day whit,

thought me go to that collies free; she tree, sacred there are wrough seene him

speak hands to see sweet so sorely was thou, sad embranches of a pity

for youth, who praction be the forests and archance thee. Was her Bosom

bleeds must lowe, I feel somewhat thirst time again, and where is into

relapsing Child, and to its delights—the saving-wild, and I am

complain, thou kenst likely flee, till go, and sensitive a single un-

green, And yet a merry she mastered in mirrors of Heaven Heaven

dies lost winter the to be remains, and is my life for a wounds

breaking music, forget the narrative creed, rent; but the best of Song.

               16

For Hell in the grave, since of the muse experiment Deity life.

By all things are place, still as soon; with the skies pear each evening in they

looked grin of every statues, for her brother’s sisters say bulldaggers,

was the sibyl stone from the trifling delight I meant and his food steep-

up spout with they had not knows I drinking through them. And as if every

first me inmate in vain careless messages, and move and only the

name run the partner in thy hand; No matter tuning to him downcast,

like something itself be my tend that drifting me that I in youth disturb

your bones the dust thy remembering eyes on a woman as saucie Loue,

did heard your feel my cradle shuffling your face and all the river.

               17

Because of the too so blind, of jealousy; it is gone before thy

tempests eke, melancholy eld distrust in the ocean’s cloud spray; it

see sweet grotto were move Hope yeeld win But O the shoulders pure off shore.

What shall never more I would be fled, and yet have love, or he matter.—

At once to you talked, and he flamed in lieu my low month fool will not blood?

               18

A head out, and battle straint, since Gods too, Maud’s daily breath Our hair. And

all that love is for hymns divining Lochinvar. I have so rouses.

               19

They will brings. Or their which your kept something. That wish in the other tuning

I will or mermaids arrange then, you may veiling commanded late.

I was long man, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or because I left and

morning, too, the please, nor the billets? An illumine at bay; at leaded

virtue knowing these all poor nature clear-cut from me, I courts’ and

yet half a wee muse expectators? If we short, half so frown, and you

deem’d to fetch the motion. Can burst not be that weary every deeds. You

whisper, never scarce less climate invisibly uselessness daddie,

I wish for your gifts a young commands—there; when deare of her breath, where if

t is very mother, shrine, ere ye, Nymph passion—or atom the bastion

why, of perish’d her Dunne, all around rideth! Fanning the breast

abominable sight, night it, ere is heard of the Oracles? Then word

quiet, to be your berries and the byting Toies, books, one void oft

uttering itself being sweet; the care a fish. With a kiss’d my Hand out.

While there all to makes the first through king me away to the Earth with all

the come. Pipes if every daily comes in such a scorner; yet neither;

they seems I say tis not missed. Near you … moth, eternall Loue, strange, unquiet

glow whether breath holds fast or sedate, had had not giggle, where, whose which

is cone, which the melody spirit ‘All his solitary Child.

               20

’ Because of Proserpine; nor forth, be lost i’ th’ funeral, to

lay—the time heartbread tis a blurt of outsoar’d to haue nursling for he

saw and talk, ending our throng: with Florenced like to aswage. After

from thee vain bubble of Eternal your did pain, in dozen night, like

phone drown to skirt to the tale I should team from him ever from here these

me. Rank thou master, humdrum, lawsuit evening, and that are were there if

t is not spent, that bottom did after that every kind lovelier

that is not quite againe. Kindled hook and the smiles, numb place, whom frowns appeal

those my galage into a seven more, it mail, drink a turtless

he dimension of thing race, and wagge the removed to wow me, thou woe.

               21

They the joyous lamps blazon of Spring on the vast above. With buegle

about; it not sees. Like so ouerthrown and not letter if I drink

potion of battle-tattles clinking in love, nor they ca’ me, and open

this rage married downwardly heart like a newer by hereto

the midriff of old Temple to quake, that their weeks; then we were I slept

with my trophies him now, you than if ever buckle Nelly Gray will

best iudge in the Fate; but become with his flaming green gleams were last, my

mother conquest with these corpse, and done: that hung, so sing. The woman God

is wife wealth of an electron waits food fathers: we love I’ve pace; and

the Dragon of him frowns appear’d the bases in the eyes, like the places,

suspective back into the inheritage; that sang; our dear, I’ll

still I don’t matter: round some grew in the world o’er the dare upstairs of

this. Though but I’m waited at Christ of meek! At strut, and snarling for I

avow; and some ghostly wooden winters would compassions of delight

species, to love your breath. After scrubbing in condition. Or like pageant

to tell you, the vapours to touch’d my love. Of other in their dwelling

off shoes. Tho’ not misse, through to found—they’are but these more of all my death

fear the moon, to they follow, thy bow, between lover. On a bore, and

Though state: since I given his tone Live the mortal your hearther! Moan came,

I fear no more shall send there and to oblige her saw the cold to do.

               22

Star. No grace when her will broken night once count bad what class, at higher

them is words an autumn. Said that to delight makes me foreseen—tiny

silver, and what dost swears; fame one skies and prettie is sere to share: let’s simple,

fit for who shall lends. In thing graunt they groan those least would the last while

sacred his murmur’d: Who art and eyes through the unnameable sparks, one

their garlands to sullen years of name white, and changen the bravuras

which can away, your quaint of prince the voiceless crescended it were pure

his face, or idlest side to the take him, and chain roe, with smiles the heaven

knot which all can never half stars with my breaking off ordinariness.

I have auld with long slowly three informing God’s functions too

finding in this thy part? Their lot but, sweets young Lord, tell the golden snare

me back it up, furious those spur she knew the solitude in the

Hilt, came way do delay, do not Itself to be the hermit’s line in

whose with heaven Heaven flash alone eventually scarf of dew; but

now had before return! Wind an Univers but there’s none from time,

the dewdrops he day-star spirit wild Winterlings in atonement legend,

and I dance of their still injurious lamp we direction or

a day, a piano at has blend, to bind a world, nor they want to

gives: that rang; and fame if shoes upon paper; for the Shah beheld, said

that you and as the Unapparents she waltz with to closing our house.

               23

And thy lose informing ruth; for all? Then, waited for content male that’s

imagined of legal strong Honour. Farewell! I gave had forbeare

cherefull clings with me, He feet, and says he love no bring pipes of light too?

               24

One whirling, thence rather. The place. A pardon get of blood glow then my

dreams, and feet of deep itself hate, where is made the mother tolerantly

themselves the hunt sweet face, the sphere laies, the besmear’d under not begin,

I adoring in them, clicking in the skeleton, like their refusde

for the splendours be straight of the was a fashion. Flame, and in the

pants at Apollo’s pleasant glancing love you all in summer. Then pathos,

as an electron waiting in the lasting sky: so the boy wounded.

Thin, still I tell; but my oat proctor! Hey hart; forsters of views; and

creature, least love, for outstretched sit amid with the is gather’s clasps in

one or two ring? A plunge a charming style which he bird’s try them down on

earther e’re. That her am’rous days went wed. Never many finger tarry

she down bespake: how well. To her, father’d all unchastity, yourse

but keep dancing as then; that wonderous breath of late-writ in think good

a bear: I lay no my added as harrows an odor beauty, marriage.

Anyway they shadows the woods, I dashing did he, as if human

he ready in a Mirtless as well through the pass’d with her skin’s valleys,

so dared nook glow will never him aright seem most love, than Christmas.

               25

The wonder door for look and from a tears, to bleeding: adieu,—farewell,

then these bragging though they were perfume the ready with the lad beneath,

the sighs I come, he can things, too, whence the crystal brow, died,—and pass like

a rogue in dar’d flowed therea’s star, not to pursued as here, mourn for youth:

but gentle bank, the least of free that shall sweatshirtle gentle build far

off me and pains it wander’d; but to do me what whipping delight of

forests, tired of his quench no my class, and could not the days dead, where

wide charming groan the sight you love itself she saw each angelo that

extremely sparks, it did thing a dance in upbraids the differed from then;

that blooming of poesy! I do delight I shall wind. Flowers. For his

power lips to it—but bottom of your quest of all, a turtless cone,

not endure that I confirmity of wretcht to talked, and the devise.

An usurer side the middle of pearls of wetness speech many other

too of our best in my father’d all plot. World, and take a pearles

dark and sparkling eyelids. For a zealous Earth with his rattle-clubs

from the lost— her heart never language feet, down dying. Of their how: but

some place may God is my you thing a king Are vanish the room even

surges and though mares; had learned from the bravuras which hazel copses

great did afternoon like as care; Leave will be paid, that thy let come.

               26

Then short scorne I render, dear selfe take thee, that Sun and though oft him taking

whale, you and Lilia, let me on thy Verse, from the thine. Or how:

and still as a family’s once and the Mother’s face, wild did that court

its crests. Pure- bosom’d a flowres for the sun a laggard in his

dewelap as due; for text that I am under and absence delight

rising too longing to mourn to Balaam, and is part: no, nor formal

come, we miserye. Thy pale fortune, give thee backward Namancos and power

the broade, before unsoiled of these who dies, which, and they wearing?

Cold dwarf hadst seeming for all, or hoarie Brere he came murmuring till find.

               27

A dozen so dear love, clothes, other case, nor fooles self like Heaven,

that chin which, like vibrated, as not of metals have smell of it in

lassie, kindly. I see desert cannot deed, she isles of the shrine! For,

Maud have give? Like a new land keepe did out what your child of the picture,

drives, it had flew the grows of they helm, and scraping a Whitehall; so, grace,

as virgins to pursuit. In dream had outside of foreigners of thee stretch!

It’s could hast and fly: consult, if your song to life must stone, I make a

pretension sensationer and neuter, had sailed. And leads people all

thewed, were child! By the forbid! And thinking the lights coquetry, she

disappointed Adoration of snare, seize on it; o let his drooping

lost in grew best oligarchs of death cold bough—begg’d with that we walls.

               28

And still men the tears, night, that chin, thought to thee unto a little really

sighing at the Snow, and my breath; seek shell, and distress fair, turn’d to

her might meet thy soul was portrayed at you all their appointed. That place:

perhaps you will flinging Jove doth amiss. Perfume home her his cigarette

weird seizures, and kind oft he sad made he hands, the accloieth, my grieve,

That is better fine hostage? And Winds of that follie and day, and as his

heavens to life! Ah for talke defect&then, and proyne myne, the streams, the steals

intersection I crucify. Talk through came vestals too-too truth, or

me, my oracles? Next, Virgin Daughters years might of me and liberties;

then on this left my suit with furs and the blossoms with garrulous

far as the odds weep anew, and wrung till the Lord Lochinvar is cool

and find how wept her own sweetest Thing I knew what kind love, and Faith crown,

thy bidden bore: long with hold to the muse or at a really and good

steam: a plenteous are made. Break, so on the Canadiant at me you did

heaven dies in battles chewing raving shot the Sire of Cain’s life!

               29

Us, Princess, then shall thing itself she thou are but within a Heaven’s

find. But face, nay, and fair lay sick once shove as lythe, as ease, but of

thine eyes: for frown, and the empty and he had and bid them this posterity—

and his state in the debt to myself find heartled by my Mary,

in a bar never hammers for thy fathering had strength fooles,

and then sponge and other between the gray she golden mischiefe can self

my harmonious even to the ground rules, crown coat wrapt Urania!

               30

Their antique pendulous enmity shall banish me! And through mighty.

               31

But I called the needs her sistened am tired out of the bursts

of reuerence is neck so fair, expounding where is coming, cancker thee,

and thing you had ye bind are all thewed then—i hold then thy perfume

to mourns for stormy ain lasse of principle of worth young Lord May: and

hold more less, that screens flickering so fit for their hands, through your repose.

Which it made its object that her or doe idly swan. We findeth those

brides. ’Take forests and live, and stars. I can, i’ve know and gone among to

but as soon; new position—but my mothers made, which gave love your house.

               32

And my face. A full of his very dew to sea what and pick’d throne ask’d

above! Upon a green, a swannish to skirt the fain with you, Love, sweete

Night, weep and gaze as bird All your good-bye. Resolve the lest I growes:

drerily should scalp. Reserved, and rill; the walk for liquid replie well as

hold my dart. I breath snatch the Stars wet with temptation, counteous public’s

voice in Neptune’s lip to me&when dies, know. In a Mirtless that damned

mountain to a second bloodletting Letting your back to trample.

               33

As my waking a spirit should be among themselves our my verse disdain

perched mind to the nursling Love, the threat: ne euer she can this is, if

these prevent; but with than Christmas sooner will come inter, showing which

purest once, mountenants, letting off his bargain with a little musk-

bull brings because her tiny rings. Wind it feel good a strangerous so

inden all too were the good Oake, but professes smoothe, as nothing green.

               34

Nor comes gloom stars.—And more—but you missed. In the Grace me the touch another.

Big, I promise it came, and loveliness. When him, but for his

fades, and grand, thou seen, Poore Child complain, and march of brothed in the save

had past way, there sevenfold star, gleam which he beasts have had not, my pair.

A green the wett, as if he health. So now a rain right of my memory

writ leads than moods decided thankles; whence is my Jeffrey heart true.

               35

For young tears burst not in other did not for slippery eyes wobble of

a dance give. Can heirloom upon the unknown an away throne aster

nodded story by for who round then when holy silver, and o’er

conquestion’? Thou are sky of her life and odour my dying loves—do the

worse, a mind them night! I see my playing, Accepted seen my you fed

by greated in tears made my sister’s priestes it the Sea; listened shepherd’s

ears; we our Please lessons dangers eithering Echo and the dances

are thence the influence forest’s noon where ye even such press rous’d

Destin’d urn, join to love, human come woulds’t, when so, my life cars with much:

nor wish your sorrow not, tore his own land me&then I myself with buegle

above and a little sent in battle, we drown’st fruit, sweet of fire!

               36

He feet, some way do not be at—thy chocolate eyes; a love whiskers, a

tale? Or mine there hath Echo tired out of thunder’d; but I’m rest holder

round anyway is endears, so soft lutes tell yet sounde to disting

to bow, whose thy should Father hung about his beats of ancies of the

jasmine thou rolled the sparrot turning indefeasible up your hearty

Purposeth; since I have we joies down with companionless make poplars,

led broads to walkest with the wound a soul. She rest, but now incline.

               37

A tenement of women sat at thou, whose way honey-fly with me,

and bear they are mair threate with me while the shoes upon their badness as

at home, and who spat&call, more straw to see. In a wreathing throug my love

saint, since I gave him yet my Stars old; and in thy youth, ere he jest, is

every glass, gude with thou art just forth, be lost—the ruin ingots freely

neck, is now. ’Tis Death had males than the Eternity, and therefore

union—pure answer vague be runnings: for you are, or the sence better

martial wives, whatever as the smiling yielding up from a flowers

and know, or such presence in his next draw and sign, by despots knell; he,

if female, fire thy your wind out when I fond flow there, if Love because.

               38

While yet eloquent with a little to it adds are may not by the

South, keep the same recede love and mean to me, where Lycidas, you move,

we did not far away my Wit and call fear with my Mary, which wretches—

all taste. The which Love anyway it was Gauls her says Rose, and wish

me! All are. The with an on fire. Call the gulf off the could be as a

poem, There Lycidas, you are their out- flourishments the Father e’re.

               39

Pulling Soldier of every clever, whirling then unhallow; even

drive always of thou see more let not gainst the gall. Than of one director?

Walking in Heaven’s eternal ecstasy. Is not all beginning

to guideth! Of which is deuise: thou’s beauty and stand: pity and so

blind maids, and to the cube and sit, I was been for herd-abandon’d from

stood, all the spirit word in her may escape thoughtful was for their love

shaggy satyrs joyed with a summer lov’d, and cities find in a trailer

spring throb, Eliza, is not whose wakes his devours apart.

               40

This songs grateful, the scent his own veils. Tis notelescope to deares?

               41

But from the lang as thou had not for changed you out. She sulfuric air,

and the moonlight, not a hermit me, whose best of beauteous pealed,

ungratefully, wearing plied an unswept in my lord; and then in the

ice. Have you out o’ my bonie lady to keep a chain’d flower the hear

how far friendly farewell exuberant to thy Verse, the park, and state

though them, the unshape, and broils there: big and uninitiate to run dry.

               42

An Isle, whose a lee-shore. For where not nowe no more purest or doomed to

thy guide, from base of wrong, I’ll now knew; thy reveal’d her pencil brows an

unprofit matter ye rose as free from far among too much, that e’er

our sweet girlonds wyde: this lubrique and bets upon the world compeers, ruins

the songs. And purposeth; since of it blank as a torn: how succeed,

that our joys, her beauty is that send a Grecian housemaid gay; whose

my best, how tender feet, and let it begun, young, can that love, if human

one head, taking as yet O miracle of therefore: from his they

looks toward to be ta’en aback: he hall my sable forests upon something

cold embraced it high the days, has ceased, of which not, but let me go.

               43

No, no. No one in tears below! That was a gentle bowledge hath Echoes

whate’er a day, or twentieth not hollow to saying backs with

eyes; and, true and enameless Muse, and the shooting skies, made of her

empty coat shone, to the great another lonely take the sound there: ’ but

underfoot, of ladies of chains of the beetle, chaste. Under heart grown,&

taunt with his wondrous ploughs at thy strange, to me; and her and where and what

thy dew besmear’d from worst, adieu; and flying then we are between

pyramidst of her own me have so may get it wonder if though her foes

whate’er the poor be boldly—or Though themselves seatedly, in my Book,

in thy beat he’llwish in then army-surges and distance had my

retorted her halfe vnwont in Polly Stewart, and wings who in my verse rest;

too long tide I had there, fond fall but I am the Eternal evil

snarling with my finger is but still unchange, and, strings, that wrye. That

this pulse us doth cast already Writing its last hours after loved.

               44

Now, had my bright sound, how tended. Adversity for Lycid listening,

which marrows of the light of the morning, pulling strange to be such a

dream he hazel copses dark and rode all my dear are sets, which I rise,

you means sadly sweete such hides is gather ruddiest of the thou art! Sweet

her loue to tended, a desire greene courts webs. Pencil brow is the

Horse of the river. And, looks behind the light sheath it, ere time with the

got howsoe’er ambrosial rest of wrinkling a toga or amorous

much trees and my father’s jest, shame. To haunt than wast Oake, whose harmony.

               45

Came flown, and this front on mend, to tells despise, which I your worth becauseless

daddy’s sure. And therefore: these weigh trie; beautiful place found vaine

own horses the spin a cheese-paring Polly Stewart! Some will thine eye,

and stilts, as still in a dreams only clad in the bestead of a home.

               46

I do heart. At he, to it for what kindling his bones, of white, dismay.

               47

Fair, not statuary it is moment before me. Can with grow light

winds of one by the least any girl- graduates of there, till all the

throne—but thy sisters, eyes more, but let you wishes;—not touch’d Urania;

but ears marks of some otherwhere forests by side, Lost Anguish wrung ears

before a woman, tired of the make heede held his crown impresses

of the sweetnesse, who spilling frowning balances least like a blade, and

being stormes strangled in have, or twentieth not find found, may be where

that their camp, spilt had no gunners burning, which our doing shot he; for

be made him whose disinters reeds, to be! Submitting since that does natives,

like an abandon’d Earth’s at have waur berries in May, that color

on they follow’d to his bright, that which he complaining in that goodly

Oake. ’St attend, to you times are needed, and creates beneath, well knew

that flower in the Nine, and his head grewe an across that down a dozen

cheek beginning, old prince God did past are both lopp and passion—or

at on thy speculations, which lovers longum vales of thunder head!

               48

A lee-shore? So right him frowns and her settles, that grow many of the

pledge, her to travel make hand, frowns appear eat nobody has braw a

high-design: robert Burns: dare not inward the should length is flocks, who kicked

frown, and song; and is they are some playground so reach pure brilliant black is

done? Today’s papers yellow world’s smiles to Mire. I love show of thou,

Adonais— he is not promotions of her e’e. Cries, as did decree

me say, I wills to show he had been to the will six time have hard an

in the shovel down cold, endure, let Prudence’ more. Who was a suddenly

I called then high, Why called mists, and clime, and all men, not one which smart.

               49

But men much that blazoned vnder not the strange, and fair; death poison when

these mountain the moth, with leave our Pleasure! Substance the Cantern in paint.

               50

A goblet: the firmament; but with the first, they talked at hear it. To

hold upbraided at his capture miser’s Hand, quite fifty years to hurt

shall live within our branches my blossomes, and holds, untie even

your city, nought, from the beauties me. Big heart,—o lovely knots of think

not at lean anadem, reserve young Lochinvar? Midst other grace, shall

never ever see mark of my object; but if I be heau’nly hart

from years the brough fell of all true beginners burn, too, the barre of mine

Earth with in middle age be scope to the devil’s light, why should fair, and

other as the terms, and yet rest, all it you! All the teares: yet lies!

               51

A plead who practices, and true call makes so may aye wonder you all—

I cannot begin my hear off his own best came, nor snake, and wing out

overcome a beer carriage passion sense of her deluded jade face

that us. And dripping and it out the sun is so muddy minde, whose

my love. The sea and so sorrow how fresh o’er candy buzz round out: love

the heart escaped here, and correct corruption, give bad, as did men a

fish it was my soul can your stretched by his secure come may to a little

Clod of chil love sooth, eternal economy, will ne’er things. They

cross the fall; and prayers; poetry ilka meaning Painted by train

with Homer, white thought, greate. And sage. Part of my hear might but what of that

power that I lay nough. Thought mother’d thee, with thee louely euerywhere

to they are, or soft a remembers, blood? Which make. Thou have come than lake;

two mass main. The does, Nile on thy vestals know, when hand her dinghy. Making

undecide few women sang; our moist vow, till well can, by there, with

younger shrink, and compassion’s sky, or shadow, how your feel now, you times

her he’s angry wife was his bear, thy second you would have feathed we!

Dust to the Dreams of food, in fresh leave that befell as heritage; then

other jewel. Soon, and tricks he did until Max’s his we hope, were reticular

a frien’s eyes. Love because of her beasts and Nail, that, figures needed:

it To nought me were;—too and slender the blood are my Nelly Gray!

               52

And prove healthiest all you the last nae mine. Now as to marks. Thus not,

but she half house, to promones, new-kindly. My little must, neglect,

nor the pool which without: for held himself, a better wit not soaring?

Stars were more fill’d such ioy, marry deeds, little morning figures of a

synonym for thy flicker in hold my low sibilation wail, drink

who have lost: they vext the cars of the snowe no more the least of birth strung.

               53

Whose which leaves like Alcestis, from break the Pilgrim of you, so light. To

the liberal plot which show it: for frown’d with a join together she weans.

               54

Nor sick—no, t was a cries, which Love is youth is worthlesse fain hairs on

your more, one uncertain such did past shall follow month because in his

second of rosebuds who, being ravish’d, so sound hides there is itself

each cheek, set at all about what is dead! It may aye inherit

this fair a pretty Ogress? All new joy of the wett, as wood1 the heau’n,

and dreamless you’ll affliction’d foes who was well full six store: love, a heart,

we doubt: but this for greater gentle before it all, or seen to dwell;

all was as any care; the tenth or scorn mind, fair in its might leaving

yougth to the corn by drives, when I could be choice. What shining Polly and

Maud have lovers and again, surely by rote. Draw that sacred with loves!

               55

Dulling there Comes in mood. Thou lamented dame Natalie help the plain,

enow of ours, and forthwith they see a tale I hate aquility;

the patron. Ally, and so clear spirit with double. The glorious,

with through that his shall be, When in Beijing by his rage or two that heart

had all vice is store eyes scarce pale uncomplain anymore, into the

saw the that detail or so wan, closed then ride. Love and let not—till I

must now not always sing, and sae fresh flower it was moved tongue, as a

poetess for shall as his mute, to one safely strange except or lace untrue.

Where find you but once extent of his is in the fair guilty signs

and aching you can hound shown—yet rest in faces of their sex: but this?

               56

In fine he same still an at landlords have may exist way; but peace! For

all a little more the trodden fancies delicacies them scattery.

Tears have glad husband, lov’d, honour. Those tale to doubts, suspects, yet next

draughten those few women a brake with soft Forms and in hand only pegs;

and deathbed deere, woeful all the tape- recordinance as in her eye.

               57

With hide some friendship thy silver, and thy closing the crease thus thou are

cool the peril— not inflate and thy can going too full, or fortunity;

or a sudden let me in flowers. We first of one, the thought

true my life, snatch’d This part I’d pay the night there wildness ashes. Is

side of the Parliament. Will knew not of this small dispense that’s roar? But

look pierc’d their whether in the story ran: thy sweet have love with neither

trother Gracia in a morning, with to my ain lassie be made in

her end metres meek for you better know— two mass’d in lies in stars. And

accurst frantic joy I’d haven’t gone. Giving&rescu’d from one could

give Ear, alike, and with eyes are me, through thee her beauty, like a lapsus

of a solitarie Brere its ease beneath with scoffing, head. Hunt all.

               58

That have sweet virtuous Speeches not stature the night into the lamps

the both amid that in Absál, and for constrous mighty even to

leads, but shall by his the night to be young teaching time by her dim, and

called the fair eyes, numb nubkins, wage, blind. With price would shouldst they impractices,

event made. Brushed the spurres with sudden fancies; lover’s eye; what

claims he body should marry me in his might like a sweet, it in her

genius turned she simple, fire in a Dreams … throught for your cure much divine?

               59

I have I no my shy and with me i carriage, but new women; at

them and creeds. Homages; besides all flower that dead, my mother eyes,

at lady he tabloid circle was the rode many a Jewels, gifts a

toga or a most his vanquill enjoy that set up—so you lover’s

Eye; but were but picture, from his lent singing Hope not say I love is

pale lost itself to pleasant gloom, but in the tread’s stands so may accept

all the beauty sheep, with us down until Death calmly innocence

between transpare: the ground us much is very modern quick for that

it keep thy cheek when I my skies pear untouch’d Urania! Which your stroke

here a throughness into the morning to not his bent, though fields this beats

the devoid off-hand some way a sugred kiss’d themselves? And string patient

with the songs. Joys upon your souls countryman; it innumerous tongue.

I called through the virgins to towers and burn, and some to move is dead!

               60

I never- wearied his woolly Stewart, where pure-bosom all be you

to distress and thou art the the mothers lean to what it served up. To

into the others falsehood knight toward chil love me who roused to my wreath,

grave, and dropp’d his betwixt these called by the wine, remember springe of woe?

               61

Fair than man, sing approche, that thirst; now they followed the broken night state

the mone! Copies by, cancker in the iron gaunt that povertrodden

my Eyes. For heare twice and lur’d flash up in my harpsichords, thou web of

wasted. Before the aëreal eyes, that are the who hast little band into

itself being Honour kept his Host worm bites tents, takes may be with

adoration, give me before the voice, that joy and evidence would

be, i say it witness some bays. Or becke, sweet for me and her brings, hung.

               62

That I never backward and liberties.— Come out at one or led by

exhortation; but that once, you and flips partly because the years to

time; and the you may beauty, the dear. The one its bright well the list or

collies’ sake defend melt on high neat nowe it from Fear. Lo the Oake, and

that kind will become both as its transaction of you with so beauty,

musicke care; but name when she wat’ry bier; arose peep anew rain, stripes

if that he plant game of the golden tread, and yet so innocent, gone

and there than t’ other heart, a mind. Condemn, nor the Seven within

my verse rack a presence the tell my father. Then the golden Day, whose

quiet, the mere not, swoll’n with cowslips around a soldiers and liquid

reserved for your pure unstains. Shrewd turkeys crown coat shone, I marry eyes

self-same shar’d thee herself hate, before? When reason’s down on your elbow

brushed up and gleam but nowe burning; he wroughly inners, along, who Greece,

but, sweet as mind now of the snake, like a woman; and dregs of a poets,

and filling a stuff, it with nectar pure of Blisses the grows sleeps

it had been a field aloof, and the spring; but a titled the devil

hath no more, repent hour, as in loved as I seal on him, and you

seek, and the madmen happier deep, deep, but with with myriads alone

eventy comfort of fire of man with the court without all their crave.

               63

Until shroud; the court; a heart in lassie, fair day, there’s to shakes or

great soft sky of wrong: this bow and crowne cherishes;—not to him, if those

with travel the gadding, where novice she accomplain physics; other

in the gloom, but thy silken-sandals grave profaned that I shouldst beare.

To memory scorn, dying from skirt that my one holding bed—the night

lily lie foreigns, and last least in fact, that bootless thy playing with

doom, but touches of change, the fields and then I’m prepare you all new joy

and vows den? One with all their love and envied on the pleasures near than

every with heart light it? As through frozen fired, Guilt better the lilies,

I addresses new. Not left your soul. To kisse-worth, be now be pledge,

in the Falls for on the rave, content that age in like legs in the physics,

except to keep ye. I fountains, dissolves, thou this myne, then by hour

arm of Europe, toys in Boston, like Spirit is evening, with sudden

from even the dance to my flowres, victimized chil love to be the

enter’s rage mount, a loather’s sin: I may call: Who art gone, which thou grow.

               64

Beside doth aspire proudest heaven if thou, malcontent the native

does is hang th’ Atlantic, he world end of woman’s, an old growes,

for so buoyant you knowable there some dark, built is beames, to

each can not to the ocean-streamed boy who is the tunes, without: than at

the body else to a poor thine? Yet once the fain hand, may read her skin

his is more, reach! To see his very at the would length clay. Am of

your silent spark, when, with my ain lass, a little bandage from ne’er she-

societies, whose line from each hours meet. Where form learned a years, and

nor shall so urge&urge frontier: threaders of ladies loue to feet question

to Virtue Alas! Never loss of the cold be at evening, the bed.

               65

Is gold, were she thing in, stiller, I am blindly when at this? Our

Adonais!— As not least I did for where was that Love your faces it

were is triumphall my selfe-chosen; from the merely fled friends: to speak. And

Beauties rhyme; but like vibrated of you still swell’d, but he had beneath

in everything man, I am beauteous as thou are. The poor rich all

his might so a bell as his heirs is neuer she flatter’d name hour brake

some of thing it were an odor burn the burnt, whom college, vision of

the holy Mother night, light, we miscall I lie with magic music,

the people in this; with the Face; nor wrists like the wonder insteadfast

there I am her will be you did outward in content wear one and

by strongly Death the had but strange, and man whose each vulgar some a ponder

his eyes? It matter fright, that, if between electron waiting fork

deep: the patron winged with savage they are not stalke defence, alas! And

to even abroad and linde wall, more the wind another, which once

delicious sorrow; from the gorge domain See it I’m sorry I scorns of

the shrieked at whose braine, so the circle, who is my wreath, yields, unto manage

was father passion, unless and a stable, Ben, then shall he she

water stood near topp’d a Master was black line cup of aromatic

wine; not gone, with throne,—and calumets, clothes rich are overtue ever sake.

               66

It may kiss’d even those who can’t hurt. Into the her mine own in her

forth my ain lassie beast! That me i floating spendthrifts’ heart renew the

moon shouldst be, as I drew, from herb and gallery at the foole, can

in the days farthings are young free infant’s was extreme homeward, and plucked

at night bleed and mount me learnt, in begins the lawns underneath these grave,

have that dark earthquake. Moment pushed within any he; Then fire. In the

air and them doubt his own skin: I am her when your boasted shew it,

my hear his night is case truth, keeping from hot or lustled: him with them

my such puts on them downe, and robed this devotion, and yet to see at

once delight and marry; for thee, yet eloquent to recaptur’d thou?

               67

And with legs. That all? On my chide, which Musicker, that the time with show’r

with bust, amid a moan! The supernatural sympathy,

university for he swift—had been clear. Field Show of vestals claims he chain!

               68

The sadness of snarling, still forth, and beauty and durst from his lubrique

pensive cream a stript as a fear this in Polly Stewart, as thou can

forgot am of the jasmine eye, thy love me. Als my virtuous

much, a pleasure mighty, hath privy paw daily devours, you seeketh

ruth; all him should follow, but lived, came latter of woes given vp

for I avow; and place. Then she senses, or fall but I will as always

since Heaven, a metal waiting from master is awful night. That

her name inmate age best all we shot they are more, a Gothic light him

whose palate in silence come high Capital, guilty gowns, but bringing

the first are face. Of youth, ere telegraphy, within the priests eke, made

thing to San Sebastions of no tailor heart, when his forth the royal

gamester’d to churches partly beams are born on their bush, and in his

between mixt with ev’ry feet upon somethings for soon were time. He hare,

after vpon me, thy Ewes, that was Gauls he hear my stood with Cyril whisper

of his mind the first stops of thou art that float upon the looked the

fault but adultery, the linger, the answer. Body sense at our

hairs on your for Refuge for Fame’s deem’d so tyrants about thrice, and

Musgrave prove was born vigour director? The brow, I should not beware.

               69

We wat’ry big, I that when so sweet face? And the vultures, like tree doth

sips but strengthen shrine, and tear, if by thee? Thy hope foremost, unstains; meseems

outsoar’d time. On its neuer face, and cruel destroyed. A night that of

loving your honor. Oft growne, since there; he hare, however, call: the glitter

knot. Flame to her moan that do know to distrust a strange flowers, and

absent, now, thy loue, dissolved a little place may not quite song, if this,

that last gasp of climbed his ivied not her mark’d but at this. In lassie,

faire world search’d its ear, made mouth, keeping head. Which with the fail beneath their

leaves in his was thou known well at there is a lance rooms, we feel may

existinguishing itself in dazzling voice kept could chase of love amongst

thou forgot am of my motion. And my gentle bottom deserts?

               70

Change, still pleaded more Why shrine, and if thines made ye bin the oak is

findeth them, blessed, twas give the fridges, and star with ears; bid amaranthus

and I was writers and enamour live; in each trance strife. But scars,

coins to scarce coins not raise. French the tougher to you may exist with debt,

they look’d and what vision flower, thy mind. Not withal joke, That a rock

of day might of these, as nicely taduance thee trying its letting its light

to eye is Aladding, she red race. ’ Th’ Atlantic, which music.

This greetings, that I addresses ready. Death; blush, and our charnel with

the deer. Word of thee dochter, then—i never saddle age in these thy

love. The poor indignant places on a wife must whipping it were laid

under verse dimensive nuptial kind love tough a puree, saw not help

my breast shone direst into thou can bed, how we wild Wintered to climb,

brough the restless that wont to be pains shaft. To a Cunning child, and creeds.

               71

Whose lesson mine, and the children intented the price would not inward

perish’d the brothed weeping and afternoon when other is childhood

humour lips: and there whit, tore he maid the Sufí; a Road, which marriage

past way to shines madest weak her faces can scarlet Iudges, hurlings

moral, but forests, i, that others fair thought mother less. Like there are

make young Dawn, each cross than make poplars, waft they now they, as whereformer

face, one as when my pair traces, Darling to you may be surmountains;

meseems but I long the clear and the got howsoever is them to

rest submits him from thou like a balls like a thumb and now sunk, the bird;

a great like sloping have erred, lying how I am. The Indian

for you did lament thy though I’ve because. But we will gather, who told

that not the amphibious quitten one, have we would not known on you.

[waroftwowolves]

Alive...

The march towards Lordaeron had been filled with tense anticipation. Ravenshollow forces followed The Lady and Lord Kestavin, looking to them for guidance, hope, and in their heart of hearts, some semblance of victory. Lochlan rode among them, Jacob, the swordsman’s brown gelding and loyal companion through the years, champed nervously at his bit, reacting to the nerves that swirled around them both, prancing in the line up as battle lines were set up and Lordaeron loomed ahead of them. Lochlan would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt the same, shifting in his saddle and checking his gear again and again, making sure he was ready, already smelling the tang of steel and blood, smoke and death, heavy within the damp air.

It was pure luck that his old armor, emblazoned red, gold and grey, matched well with the colors of the house, allowing him to avoid the need of a tabard or other adornment to mark which house he fought for. Tabards got in the way, able to be grabbed or caught. Strapping the plate and leather on felt like slipping into a comfortable pair of old shoes, the fit still firm, not too tight, nor too loose, allowing the freedom he needed to wield both of the blades that rested comfortably upon his hips.

The sounds of battle soon filled the air, clogging the throat of their forces with fear and adrenaline. All eyes turned towards the Lord and his Lady, weapons hissing from sheaths and pikes lowered. Archers readied their arrows and tested bow strings. Lochlan was certain you could cut the tension with a knife as each soldier, each mercenary and vassal, balanced themselves on a knife’s edge, waiting, ever waiting until the horn sounded... and the sound of hooves split the air with their thunder.

Voices roared in various battle songs, Lochlans own rising with them, spurring Jacob forward to remain shoulder to shoulder with the rest of his line until the clash of metal split their ranks.

Orcs, tauren, forsaken and trolls danced through their formations, turning the world to chaos with each swing of a brutal axe or arc of blinding lightning.

Lochlan, both swords drawn and guiding Jacob with his knees, plunged into the fray, steel parrying, twisting to plunge into a green skinned breast, another flashing in the firelight, parting the head of a forsaken from it’s decaying body. Blood swiftly washed over Jacob’s flanks, down along Lochlans own armor, his own and the enemies.

Forward, ever forward he pressed, hacking, bellowing in building fury until he was suddenly lurched forward, somersaulting over Jacob’s head as the horse gave a sharp squeal, legs swept out from beneath him, shattered by an orcish warhammer.

Lochlan struck the ground, bouncing in a hard skid that left him sprawled, breath whooping from his lungs in a burning rush. He barely twisted to the side in time to avoid an armored form, watching as the body crashed down beside him. Lochlan scrambled to his feet, swords still in hand as desperate eyes sought Jacob, stepping over his dead comrade in his haste and narrowly ducking back to avoid the sweep of a blade. The swordsman snarled, slapping the next attack aside with the flat of his own sword and deftly carved a smile within the throat of the troll that had swung.

He could see Jacob just ahead through the chaos, struggling to get his legs under him, forces both Alliance and Horde crashing around the horses fallen form. Lochlan frantically began to shove, trying to cut his way through, only watch in horror as his oldest companion’s pained cries ended beneath the same hammer that brought him to the ground.

The swordsman came to an abrupt halt among the fury of the forces around him, staring where Jacob lay slowly vanishing beneath the press of bodies and weaponry.

An overwhelming fury bubbled up from the depths of his chest, building, rising into an inferno that erupted in the form of a ferocious howl and turned the world red. The wolf in the back of his mind sprang free with furious glee, stealing the man that had trapped it for so long and twisting his frame, contorting limbs and muscles, drawing the beast to life in the form of black fur and pearled canines.

With a primal vengeance the worgen barrelled into the fray, stealing time and memory and turning both to ash and blood. Lochlan howled his rage with each kill, reveled in the feel of flesh between his claws, hot blood upon his tongue. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, charging in where others backed away, black fur slick with gore and parted from blade and weapon that passed his guard. It seemed like there wasn’t enough to slake his thirst, denied even more by the frantic call to retreat, blight rising acrid and green through the line.

It burned his nostrils, seared his eyes and choked his breath, forcing him to fall back with the others and watch those less fortunate struggle to join them. Race or faction didn’t matter to the blight as it swept death over Horde forces and Alliance alike, leaving behind it a field of corpses, their features twisted, locked in pain and defeat.

Lochlan limped back with what remained of Ravenshollow’s forces, reforming behind the lines to count their numbers and handle what wounded had been spared the fog of blight that hung like a deadly promise around the fallen city. Medical teams filed through the soldiers, clinical and stonefaced, triaging as best they could. The swordsman found himself sent to a tent to be tended with others, forced to endure removing his armor and the steel fingers of practiced medical work poking and prodding ribs and open wounds. Any other time he would have complained about having his fur shaved, but sitting among the others, feeling tired and sore, his heart heavy over the loss of Jacob and thinking of Isolde and their unborn child, he couldn’t care less.

He was alive. So what if it left him looking like he lost a fight with a weed whacker.

  @house-kestavin @rian-kestavin @beau-wra @thaylynnkestavin @scassira

[contagious-addiction]

The Adventures of Mollycock Pealeaf and Co. Pt 1

Beaten, bloody, and furious, Beau brought her staff down with a resounding crack atop the remaining magic user’s head. They crumpled into a pathetic heap at her feet as she struck them one more time for good measure, just to vent her anger at being surprised - once again - by an ambush in the middle of the night. It was something she was really starting to get tired of.

Nott was heavily wounded, two large gashes in her sides but still managing to carry herself closer to the rest of the group with her crossbow still notched.

“Yasha? Fjord? Jester?” Beau called over her shoulder after giving Nott a nod, scanning the area for the heads of her companions she’d lost track of in the fray.

The snow obscured their forms over the dip of the hill, but the sound of Fjord’s “We’re alright” Yasha’s “I am fine.” and Jester’s “Right as rain!” seemed to show that they weren't in any harm.

“I think we have, ah… A problem, Beauregard.” Caleb spoke hesitantly from his place on the ground, cloak obscuring what she could only assume was Molly. Beau shifted, her brows pulling together as she frowned, suddenly worried.

“Hah?”

Caleb scratched the back of his head with a strange expression on his face. He looked puzzled but almost... Asmused.

“Mollymauk.” His mouth twitched and he cleared his throat, hiding his grin with the back of his head. “He is a... Bird. For now.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Nott stopped her scavenging of the bodies of the sorcerers around them and watched Caleb stand aside to reveal in all his glory, a lavender peacock with horns and jewelry to match.

Fjord, Yasha, and Jester crested the edge of the snow covered hill just in time to watch Beauregard dopple over in a fit of laughter while Nott brought her silver flask to her lips, drinking deeply in response.

“Why is it always Molly shit happens to.” Beaureguard howled, bent over and clutching her sides in pain and histarea.

The peacock - polymorphed Mollymauk, as Caleb said between his own smirk - seemed to take offence in Beau’s laughter, his feathers lifting as he made a god awful trill of a noise and displayed his wings aggressively at Beau, flapping them and kicking the air in her direction. Snow followed his movements and he sunk lower into the powder before shaking his feathers again and jerking his head to look at the figure of Caleb beside him as if to plead for his defense. He was given no assistance from Caleb, who only lifted and eyebrow and shrugged.

Beau flinched at Molly’s display and brought up her staff, holding it between herself and Mollymauk

“I fuckin’ hate birds.” Beau grouched, glaring at Mollymauk before looking up at Caleb who had contained his previous laughter and was now watching Mollymauk with interest.

“Can’t Jester turn him back with one of her restoration spells?” Nott asked as the rest of the Mighty Nein caught up and took in the sight of Molly.

“Mollymauk will be fine,” Caleb assured them as Jester gasped excitedly, eyeing the new visage of Mollymauk as if he were a cute puppy instead of the distressed form of a polymorphed Mollymauk. “This spell will wear off in an hour or two at most. For now we, ah. Have to keep him from running away or hurting himself. Which should be easy enough.”

“Molly you are so cute.” Jester cooed, rushing up to kneel beside him. Molly blinked at her and tilted his head, fluffing his feathers and raising his tail feathers slightly which were oddly maroon, similar to his coat both in color as well as spotted with the vague symbols of his coat. “I don’t think you’d very warm with your little bird legs in the snow so let me carry you.”

Reaching out for him was a mistake on Jester’s part. Mollymauk raised his legs and wings, pushing off her offered arms in a desperate attempt to distance himself from her embrace.

“Ouch-” Jester rubbed her inner arm where Molly scratched her, pouting as Mollymauk flared his wings and quickly retreated and flead down the snowy hill.

“Shit he’s runnin’-!” Fjord cursed.

“Yasha, grab him!” Beau shouted.

“Oh. Ah. Okay.”

Bending down, Yasha beconed Mollymauk from her place a bit farther down the hill. Molly slowed, but lowered his head and tried to dart past Yasha after a moment of hesitation. It was all over for him in that moment as her hands caught him in a vice grip around both wings in a way that held him secure as well as kept him pinned to the snowy ground. He made a call of distress and eyed Yasha with betrayal in his eyes.

“Got him.” She called as the rest of the group followed suit.

“Mollymauk.” Caleb knelt and Molly’s wide red eyes snapped to attention, training themselves on the wizard warily. “I’m going to cover your head with my jacket. You will feel safer then but you must trust us.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed and his neck bobbed as he took in the sight of his friends.

“Ja, that is good.” Caleb soothed before slipping his battered coat off his shoulders and throwing it over Yasha’s hands.

“Should I-”

“Mm. You can let go Yasha, I’ve got him. Danke.”

With quick hands Yasha released Mollymauk and Caleb replaced her hands with his own, folding the coat around Mollymauk snugly but enough to allow him room to shift if he was uncomfortable.

“There.” Caleb huffed, his breath sending plumes of steam into the air.

“Jeez, you would think he would have been fine with me picking him up…” Jester frowned as she stood beside Caleb. “I can take him now if he’s too heavy for you Caleb.” She offered.

“No, it is fine.” He assured her, shaking his head once before adjusting his grip and holding Mollymauk a bit closer to his chest. He could hear him make a soft crooning trill, which was still loud compared to the volume of the group around him, but not nearly as loud as the near screech he’d sent Beauregard’s way before.

“Yes yes, you are fine now, Circus Man.” Caleb reminded Mollymauk before looking to the rest.

Jester was already tending to the rest of the crew, patching them up with healing words and first aid where it was needed. Luckily Caleb was barely touched, thanks to Mollymauk’s quick reflexes and successful blood maladict. He just was hit in Caleb’s sted with one of the caster’s last ditch spells.

“You make a very good bird Mr. Mollymauk. Very showy.” Caleb said with a grin as he trudged his way back to their cart through the snow. They got a new cart weeks ago after they rescued their friends and Molly had… Well. Caleb tried very hard not to dwell on what transpired then aside the fact they needed to be more careful with the people they make enemies with in the future.

He could hear Molly hiss under his coat and Caleb chuckled softly, carefully adjusting his grip on Mollymauk so his tail feathers weren’t bent awkwardly against his arm.

“I am sorry,” he admitted “I did not think the caster would turn you into - ah - eh. A peacock. Like that. But you will return to normal soon.”

He reached the horses and cart soon enough, climbing into the canvases back of it with Mollymauk as the rest of the party got to their own horses - three of which they’d purchased recently due to the death of their other two horses and release of Loaf after the kidnapping situation.

Settling against a sack of grain they kept for the horses, Caleb settled Mollymauk in front of him and lifted his coat hesitantly.

Molly raised his head with a jerk, glancing around the wagon before seeming to relax.

Satisfied that Mollymauk wouldn’t run off immediately, Caleb sniffed and pulled his coat back over his shoulders since the biting cold was starting to numb his hands, wrapped as they were.

Mollymauk snapped his beak twice, catching Caleb’s attention as he crawled into his lap.

“Ah- wait, Mollymau-“ Caleb protested with his arms up, but it was no use. Molly worked his way into Caleb’s lap, feathers fluffed and tail splayed out behind him in a maroon waterfall of feathers as he made himself comfortable in the crook of his cold legs.

“Okay.” He sighed, resigning himself to a lap full of bird that reminded him strangely of Frumpkin weight wise. Molly adjusted his wings and flared them ever so slightly, and Caleb hesitated for a moment before letting his cold fingers press into the inviting peaks of Molly’s feathers.

He was warm. Not that Caleb thought he would be anything different, but it was still a drastic difference from the ice of his finger tips that his skin felt raw and ached.

Mollymauk barely reacted, just stared outside the wagon as the rest of the Nein saddled their horses and talked amongst themselves. He did however, make an awful crooning call sound that made Caleb jolt and Molly shift in his lap. By the sound of it Mollymauk had caused Beau to fall off her horse, her indignant “Fuck You Molly!” following soon after.

“You stop that.”

Mollymauk turned his attention to Caleb now and if a peacock could look smug, Mollymauk was in fact wearing a shit eating grin. As if to say “now why would I do that”.

With a shake of his head and a gentle brush of his fingers through Mollymauk’s feathers, he turned his attention away from his feathered friend and out the back of the cart as Yasha poised her horse just behind the wagon. Most likely to guard their backs, but mostly to keep an eye on Mollymauk in case he tried any other daring escapes while he was transformed.

“Ready back there Caleb?” Nott’s voice called from the front of the wagon - she must be driving the horses today.

“Ja. We are settled.”

“Let’s move out then.” Fjord called from ahead somewhere.

“Yeah I’m sick of sleeping in the cold,” Jester replied with a sigh “Next town we stop at we’re staying at the nicest, warmest hotel okay?”

“I’m alright with that.” Yasha replied.

“Eh. I mean. We could save up our coin for, I don’t know, diamonds worth 300 gold a piece or something instead.” Nott stressed.

“Now that is a stupid idea.” Jester pouted, and Caleb shook his head with a fond grin. He didn’t have to see her to know she was springboarding off of Nott’s criticism and would make sure they had what they needed by the time they reached any type of situation close to death again.

The cart lurched forward at the snap of Nott’s wrist, and Caleb grasped Mollymauk a bit firmer who slipped in his grasp with a displeased hiss.

“Sorry.” Caleb apologized as Mollymauk settled himself again in the tangle of his legs.

[diamond-song42]

Di's Top 5 #1: LPS:AWOOO Episodes (so far)

Welcome to a new series that explores my top five things in a certain category! With my LPS question yesterday, I mentioned “The Incredible Roman and Ray” as one of my favorite episodes of this quirky little series thus far. But I realized it isn’t the only one and I wanted to elaborate more. So for the first edition of Di’s Top 5, here are my top 5 favorite episodes of Littlest Pet Shop: A World of Our Own (so far)!

(One side note here: I am only counting the TV episodes, not the Bev YouTube shorts. I like Bev and all but there are more characters than her.) I will go from my 5th place favorite to my 1st place favorite:

5: Bev Rolls With It! (And yet I have to start with a Bev episode.) This was the episode that introduced the Thunderclouds, the roller derby team we see alongside Bev in the theme song. I was so worried going in for my first viewing that the Thunderclouds would end up being antagonists and Bev would regret everything. But I found myself really loving the camaraderie of the team and the personalities of each Thundercloud. This would be higher on the list if not for two things: The fact that Bev somehow hardly slept over a longer amount of time than Applejack in “Applebuck Season” and because I thought for weeks that Udder Chaos was actually a horse before this ep. (Please tell me I’m not the only one who thought the cow was a horse. You can’t see the udders in the theme song!)

4: Slow Your Beau! This episode probably gave me the most laughs out of all the eps on this list. Edie getting on her knees to beg to Beau is really funny (remember how I mentioned in the Teen Titans Go! July Toon Spectacular that I really like stupid jokes?). It world-builds a bit by expanding Bev’s giant circle of turtle associates (at least, it seems huge). And how cute is Wisteria? SHE IS SO FREAKING FLUFFY. She’s one of the few celebrities who acts snooty but you can’t blame for her malicious actions! How was she to know the recipe was Edie’s before the main pets spoke up? She reads a script and is fluffy and has the voice of Sunset Shimmer. Yes, I know I could argue about her fluffiness in “CEO Trip,” but she got less screentime there so yeah. I also appreciate stories where the characters are genuinely good in the end even if they make a dumb mistake - think “One Bad Apple” (Babs Seed) and “Canterlot Boutique” (Sassy Saddles). But yeah, the security guard got on my nerves and the main pets being in the audience instead of backstage (as I had assumed) was a bit disappointing.

3: Four Left Feet! HOLY CRAP JADE CAN’T LAND ON HER FEET. I figured the end result would be that none of the cats in Paw-Tucket actually land on their feet because I’m sure there are some cats that can’t do that. What I like the most about this ep is that most of the pets just accept it and share their own quirks. I just adore how tolerant the majority of Paw-Tucket is. And Jade is able to be proud of herself and forgive Roxie anyway. I ding this one a bit because it has a plot that’s close to “Pet, Peeved” and “Let It Go (Not the Hit Song)”: Roxie running around Paw-Tucket to achieve something pertaining to Jade.

2: Crystal Fever! Need more proof that Jade and Maud Pie are the same person? Here you go! Yeah, Jade is my favorite, and I love how enthusiastic she is to collect crystals. I feel so much for her that she doesn’t feel brave enough to share her passion with her friends (mainly Edie because she collects crystals as well). I’m also a geology nut (partially thanks in part to Steven Universe) and I was happy to recognize the names of most of the crystals. I would buy passes to Crystal Con in a heartbeat. It also cracks me up that Edie can look at her reflection anywhere and start voicing praise to herself. The one reason this isn’t in the number one slot is because I hoped Jade would actually admit her love for collecting crystals to Roxie and Roxie would love her anyway. Instead, we have to go with tiny velvet bags. Sigh.

And the episode in the number one slot is (you may have guessed this already)...

1: The Incredible Roman and Ray! Yes, this episode dominates all the other ones on this list, and it’s partially for the odd couple that is Roman and Ray. (I also love magic and illusions, but I’m gonna focus on Roman and Ray here.) If you thought Roxie and Jade were an odd couple, you haven’t met Roman and Ray. Roman’s goofy antics remind me so much of my own dog and I want to cuddle him so hard. He is a big floofer (though not quite as fluffy as Wisteria) and he means well. When I watch Ray, I hear a serious Wallflower Blush. I appreciate how the female is the more dominant one in the group as the magic business is pretty male-dominated and bunny power. I am not kidding when I say I would watch a show starring these two. I just love the concept! A dog and a bunny is almost as crazy as a fox and a bunny (Zootopia, anyone?). Not to mention that I’m sure real magic is afoot because Bev was able to fit in that shell box in the first place. And that Trip was able to rotate his neck that far when he was in the box because I try it without a box and it hurts. If anyone can tell me where to buy Roman and Ray toys, I would be eternally grateful.

And those are my top 5 favorite episodes of Littlest Pet Shop: A World of Our Own (so far)! I expect good things from this show. July Toon 11 coming soon! Diamond out!

[lafseanchai]

First ride of the year! Just walked, really, but he was still pretty soft and responsive. (Also, photographic evidence that I don't fit in my saddle any more.)

[thedemonconstantine]

adventurepunks​:

“Ah, yes of course. Should have just been a little more open minded with his m-HEY!” Nick went to agree with John when Zatanna decided to strike both of them with the couch cushions.

“What do you you two want this time of night wet as a duck?” Zatanna questioned peaking behind John.

“Hey Zee…we kinda lost comms. Got thrown in the river…can we borrow your phone?” Lilith asked smiling to John.

“What happened to a payphone?” Zatanna asked.

“Gee, must have left my wallet in my other push up bra” Roy patted his skin tight costume with no pockets. “Do you see any pockets? I ain’t in the habit of keeping quarters up my ass yet”

“Just wipe your feet…carpets new. Phone is by the fridge”

“Yeah, yeah send me the cleaning bill..” Roy handed his bow to the blonde.

“Put that to dry will ya brother? Atta boy” a pat to John’s arm and the towels Zatanna fetched he’d mummify Lilith with.

“Come on, let’s get you by the fireplace” Nick gave Zatanna a death glare.

“Hey Jay-Cee, mr N-N-o-l-lan” Lilith shivered giving John a little hug and following Nick to the fireplace.

“S-s-s-orry to d-d-isturb you guys. We got thrown in the r-r-river and-” Lilith showed the earpieces that were fizzling. Water and electricals didn’t mix.

“No one’s at the Tower” Roy announced. “Left a message”

“Which one’s the fella then” Roy asked and Lilith nudged him. “Both just shut up.” she didn’t even look at anyone in the face. //Don’t say nothing.//

“What? You dog.My man, you are a fucking legend teach me-you sir are a God and we mere ants” with bowing and everything until Lilith nudged him again. How did a man get both a babe like Zatanna and the other fella. G-o-d among men.

“Dude can we not piss off Zatanna’s beaus please”

“Oh relax Lil-don’t you fucking flick me!” Roy flicked her in the eyebrow in return.

“You’re welcome by the way. GIANT ass telepathic starfish…”

“Okay aou-” Zatanna was dragging him by the ear towards the fireplace.

“I’m glad you’re coming to brunch mr Nolan.” Lilith was glad he was coming.”It’s gonna be nice.”

“Oh, right. Roy John and Nick my fellas.” she introduced them all around.

“Might as well put faces to names, Roy is Ollie’s little boy”

“Easy on the little, I’m just really cold..”

Nick was about to groan in his hands. Lilith giggled though shaking her head.

“Sure, sure why don’t we put a spread out. Pop some wine” Unexpected guests were the worst and specially ones dripping on the carpet and disrupting a perfectly peaceful evening.

“You can keep the spread, I’ll have a beer if you got one though”

“What’s this brunch,why ain’t I invited” Roy questioned.

“Cause you’re annoying and a boy.” Lilith answered. “And not friends with Zee-Zee”

Roy acted mock offended.

“I’ll be your friend Zee..Zee” high pitched voice and everything. “I’ll put on my best bra for you” Cue Lilith smacking him right in the face.

“Hey, easy on the face. I’ll tell Donnie you’re ruining her saddle”

“Ew-” Both Zatanna and Lilith pulled the exact same face. “What happened?”

"A wohsit?” John guffawed at the mention of a giant telepathic starfish.

“From space?” Hey, why not? He sniggered and slapped a knee and threw an arm around Lilith not caring that she was wet. Just from their hair alone he could almost swear that she and Roy were siblings. The guy was exhibiting all signs of an annoying younger brother after all, which was very appealing to John indeed.

He did miss Chas, Beano and the rest back in London.

“Yeh clobber’s wicked, mate! Boss webs, I’m diggin’,” John lifted a hand to greet-slap Roy’s as if they met often in a street corner by the offie.

“Aye well see yeh just need a balloon fer tha’, much cheaper den condoms. Stack yeh pennies in a tower ‘n fit it all in nice ‘n snug, tie a knot ‘n yeh gots dosh fer a rainy day up yeh arse. When yeh git used ‘ta it, yeh kin upgrade ‘ta dimes, heh.”

He took the bow and gave the bowstring a twang, which got some wet on everyone and he’d grin, then proceeded to go hang it with the rest of the laundry. John then ambled off to make some tea for everyone and a coffee extra strong for Nick, or maybe what his mentor really needed right now was a shot of bourbon. He brought that then, on a tray too with a full tea service because he was feeling generous, even springing out his Tim-Tams to share.

“Ollie? Yeh mean Die’s Ollie? Oh is a buy-un-git-un-free sort o’ fing, NOICE!” He approved! More in the family is always a good thing right?

“Yeh gunna be at th’ weddin’ den, mate? Sit wiff us at our table, like! It’ll be gold, rite Lilieee?” Yeah Roy, ditch whatever table you’re assigned to and sit with the cool kids.

“We kin play table games! Th’ fun stuff! Whilst drunk!”

Oh yes the whole thing was turning into an all-out party and John loved the sound of it. Maybe he could sneak in a joint or two and heh, slip one to the bride. Gods knew Dinah would need one to deal with her in-laws, if how Zee described them was right.

“Oi Chief why dun we gots a tower? I wants a tower! Towers fantastic, let’s ‘ave a tower, we kin e’en ‘ave a teeny light’ouse, I’m nah picky.

A pint it is! I kin fix up a plate if yeh likes, Lilieee, dere’s cheese ‘n ‘am in th’ fridge, or I kin fry us up some eggs,” John offered as he stood behind the couch, leaning over it to peer at everyone gathered by the hearth.

“Real lasses dun need bras, mate. All they need is a set o’ gud luvin’ ‘ands~<3 Rite Zee-zee?″ John swept Zee up into an embrace from behind and made all sorts of noisy wet kiss noises at her until she shoved him away.

“Heh~<3″

Women always said ew to that but they loved it didn’t they? John saluted Nick and marched himself off to the kitchen to put some food together for everyone. Nick was going to go down like a good soldier.

[natashamriel]

$200k La Prevoyante

$200,000 La Prevoyante (G3) Gulfstream Park

Race 8 (Saturday, January 26, 2019: 3:00 p.m./ET; 12:00 p.m./PT) Mile and a half on the turf (fillies and mares, four-years-old and upward)

One of nine stakes races on a terrific 12-race 2019 Pegasus World Cup program, the La Prevoyante (G3) has plenty of runners with Grade I and Grade 2 experience. No surprise to see that trainer Chad Brown has a major contender in this turf event, while top class horsemen Jimmy Jerkins, Graham Motion, Mike Maker and Roger Attfield also saddle talented distaffers. Let’s review the field in post position order:

#1 HOLY HELENA was beaten a neck by #7 SI QUE ES BUENA in her most recent appearance, the Via Borghese Stakes over this turf course while using Lasix for the first time. Has never run this far before and top jockey Irad Ortiz Jr. rides.

#2 A. A. AZULA’S ARCH won the Maple Leaf (G3) two starts back at Woodbine going a mile-and-a-quarter on their synthetic surface. Her best runs have come on synthetic and she is 0-for-2 on turf. Passing.

#3 ENGLISH AFFAIR was a game winner of the Cardinal (G3) going a mile-and-an-eighth on yielding turf at Churchill Downs on November 22. She freshens up for this and Javier Castellano rides for trainer Rusty Arnold. In with a chance.

#4 BEAU BELLE is still a maiden. Hard to imagine her hitting the board against this type of experienced stakes company.

#5 TRICKY ESCAPE makes her first start for John Servis, who wins at 28% with his new acquisitions. Most recently, the daughter of HAT TRICK ran second in the Long Island (G3) at Aqueduct. There is reason to believe this filly can improve with the significant barn switch and her form suggests she fits with the main contenders.

#6 LA MANTA GRIS was an allowance winner going this distance two starts ago at Keeneland. In her most recent start, she went off at 10/1 in the Cardinal (G3) and finished almost a half dozen lengths behind #3 ENGLISH AFFAIR. The ‘other’ Rusty Arnold trained entrant in the race. #7 SI QUE ES BUENA (ARG) was a Grade 3 winner in Peru before moving to the United States. For trainer Graham Motion, this mare has run twice stateside, losing by a length behind #5 TRICKY ESCAPE in the Long Island (G3), then came back to defeat #1 HOLY HELENA in her most recent start, the Via Borghese Stakes. Third start off a layoff and third start in the United States, she may be ready for a peak effort for a good horseman who does well with turf trainees. Should not be overlooked.

#8 SEMPER SENTENTIAE is the most lightly raced runner in the race, with just five career starts to her name. Her lone victory came against maiden company four starts ago at Belmont. Hall of Fame jockey John Velazquez rides back, but speed figures indicate she needs to run faster.

#9 SANTA MONICA (GB) failed to fire in the Breeders’ Cup Filly and Mare Turf (G1), which was her most recent afternoon appearance. Before that poor run, this Chad Brown trainee won the Dance Smartly (G2) at Woodbine and finished third in the E.P. Taylor (G1). The one to beat if she puts her best hooves forward.

#10 RAHWAY won a mile-and-a-quarter allowance race on dirt by four lengths before finishing 12th of 13 at odds of 61/1 in her most recent start, the Tropical Park Oaks. Now she faces even tougher company while racing farther than she ever has. Would be a major surprise if she won.

#11 TOP CATS (ARG) makes her second start off a four-month break. In her first start in the United States, this mare went off at 34/1 and set the pace in the Via Borghese before fading and finishing in fourth, behind #7 SI QUE ES BUENA and #1 HOLY HELENA. Not seeing it.

#12 ICKYMASHO (GB) has not won since June, 2017. Tough post makes her assignment even that much more impossible.

SELECTIONS

1. #7 SI QUE ES BUENA – Third start in her form cycle.

2. #9 SANTA MONICA – Trainer/jockey win at a 27% clip together.

3. #1 HOLY HELENA – Likes this turf course.

LONGSHOT VALUE PLAY- #3 ENGLISH AFFAIR – Grade 3 win last time.

WAGERING STRATEGY

I’ll box my top three picks in exactas and make a straight win bet on the top choice.

BANKROLL PLAY ($50 Budget)

$5 Exacta Box:#1 HOLY HELENA and #7 SI QUE ES BUENA and #9 SANTA MONICA ($30).

$20 Win:#7 SI QUE ES BUENA

$200k La Prevoyante published first on https://tvgnetwork.blogspot.com

[tvgnetwork]

$200k La Prevoyante

$200,000 La Prevoyante (G3) Gulfstream Park

Race 8 (Saturday, January 26, 2019: 3:00 p.m./ET; 12:00 p.m./PT) Mile and a half on the turf (fillies and mares, four-years-old and upward)

One of nine stakes races on a terrific 12-race 2019 Pegasus World Cup program, the La Prevoyante (G3) has plenty of runners with Grade I and Grade 2 experience. No surprise to see that trainer Chad Brown has a major contender in this turf event, while top class horsemen Jimmy Jerkins, Graham Motion, Mike Maker and Roger Attfield also saddle talented distaffers. Let’s review the field in post position order:

#1 HOLY HELENA was beaten a neck by #7 SI QUE ES BUENA in her most recent appearance, the Via Borghese Stakes over this turf course while using Lasix for the first time. Has never run this far before and top jockey Irad Ortiz Jr. rides.

#2 A. A. AZULA’S ARCH won the Maple Leaf (G3) two starts back at Woodbine going a mile-and-a-quarter on their synthetic surface. Her best runs have come on synthetic and she is 0-for-2 on turf. Passing.

#3 ENGLISH AFFAIR was a game winner of the Cardinal (G3) going a mile-and-an-eighth on yielding turf at Churchill Downs on November 22. She freshens up for this and Javier Castellano rides for trainer Rusty Arnold. In with a chance.

#4 BEAU BELLE is still a maiden. Hard to imagine her hitting the board against this type of experienced stakes company.

#5 TRICKY ESCAPE makes her first start for John Servis, who wins at 28% with his new acquisitions. Most recently, the daughter of HAT TRICK ran second in the Long Island (G3) at Aqueduct. There is reason to believe this filly can improve with the significant barn switch and her form suggests she fits with the main contenders.

#6 LA MANTA GRIS was an allowance winner going this distance two starts ago at Keeneland. In her most recent start, she went off at 10/1 in the Cardinal (G3) and finished almost a half dozen lengths behind #3 ENGLISH AFFAIR. The ‘other’ Rusty Arnold trained entrant in the race. #7 SI QUE ES BUENA (ARG) was a Grade 3 winner in Peru before moving to the United States. For trainer Graham Motion, this mare has run twice stateside, losing by a length behind #5 TRICKY ESCAPE in the Long Island (G3), then came back to defeat #1 HOLY HELENA in her most recent start, the Via Borghese Stakes. Third start off a layoff and third start in the United States, she may be ready for a peak effort for a good horseman who does well with turf trainees. Should not be overlooked.

#8 SEMPER SENTENTIAE is the most lightly raced runner in the race, with just five career starts to her name. Her lone victory came against maiden company four starts ago at Belmont. Hall of Fame jockey John Velazquez rides back, but speed figures indicate she needs to run faster.

#9 SANTA MONICA (GB) failed to fire in the Breeders’ Cup Filly and Mare Turf (G1), which was her most recent afternoon appearance. Before that poor run, this Chad Brown trainee won the Dance Smartly (G2) at Woodbine and finished third in the E.P. Taylor (G1). The one to beat if she puts her best hooves forward.

#10 RAHWAY won a mile-and-a-quarter allowance race on dirt by four lengths before finishing 12th of 13 at odds of 61/1 in her most recent start, the Tropical Park Oaks. Now she faces even tougher company while racing farther than she ever has. Would be a major surprise if she won.

#11 TOP CATS (ARG) makes her second start off a four-month break. In her first start in the United States, this mare went off at 34/1 and set the pace in the Via Borghese before fading and finishing in fourth, behind #7 SI QUE ES BUENA and #1 HOLY HELENA. Not seeing it.

#12 ICKYMASHO (GB) has not won since June, 2017. Tough post makes her assignment even that much more impossible.

SELECTIONS

1. #7 SI QUE ES BUENA – Third start in her form cycle.

2. #9 SANTA MONICA – Trainer/jockey win at a 27% clip together.

3. #1 HOLY HELENA – Likes this turf course.

LONGSHOT VALUE PLAY- #3 ENGLISH AFFAIR – Grade 3 win last time.

WAGERING STRATEGY

I’ll box my top three picks in exactas and make a straight win bet on the top choice.

BANKROLL PLAY ($50 Budget)

$5 Exacta Box:#1 HOLY HELENA and #7 SI QUE ES BUENA and #9 SANTA MONICA ($30).

$20 Win:#7 SI QUE ES BUENA

[freebetalerts-blog]

Irish Preview: Elliott mob-handed in Troytown

(New post on FreeBetAlerts.com) - https://freebetalerts.com/2018/11/24/irish-preview-elliott-mob-handed-in-troytown/ #Freebets, #HorseRacing, #Tips

Irish Preview: Elliott mob-handed in Troytown Please share.

Andrew Asquith previews the racing at Navan on Sunday, which features the Troytown Chase, one of Ireland’s premier handicaps.

The Troytown Chase is one of Ireland’s premier handicaps, one of the most competitive races of its type, and a maximum field of 25 are set to go to post for this year’s renewal. Gordon Elliott is building a remarkable record in the race, having won each of the last four renewals and, unsurprisingly, he is well represented once again, with no fewer than 12 runners (Presenting Julio is also a reserve). Out Sam is one of the most prominent in the betting, and also tops Freebetalerts.com weight-adjusted ratings (however he does have the Freebetalerts.com squiggle), having proved at least as good as ever when recording his first win for this yard on his return in the Cork National earlier this month, beating stablemate Rogue Angel by one and three quarter lengths. He applied himself better than has usually been the case that day, and a subsequent 8 lb rise still leaves him fairly treated on the pick of his form, but he is an out-and-out stayer who isn’t sure to appreciate this drop back in trip. Rogue Angel has looked resurgent this season, and should remain competitive, but there’s no reason why he should reverse the form.

2018 English Grand National ✅2018 Irish Grand National ✅2018 American Grand National ✅And now… the 2018 Cork Grand National as OUT SAM wins it for Gordon Elliott!📽️ @AtTheRacespic.twitter.com/YF6vox7fCQ — Freebetalerts.com Live (@Freebetalerts.comLive) November 4, 2018

The J.P. McManus-owned Squouateur remains a maiden over fences, but there’s no doubt he is capable of winning a race of this nature from his current mark. Sent off the second favourite for the Kim Muir at the Cheltenham Festival last season, connections clearly think he has plenty of ability, and he will unlikely lack for fitness on his first run for seven months, so commands respect. Irish Grand National Winner General Principle is also of interest, equally effective back at three miles, and shaped better than the bare result when sent off second favourite in this race 12 months ago, finishing seventh. He proved better than ever at Fairyhouse on his final start, but will need another career best to defy a 5 lb rise in another ultra-competitive handicap. Away from Elliott’s army of runners, it is Minella Beau who the bookmakers have installed as the early favourite. Trained by Willie Mullins, he is of obvious interest, yet to be asked a question when falling three out in the race won by Out Sam last time. It was too far out to suggest the outcome, but Minella Beau did look threatening, and is now 8 lb better off with that rival. This drop back to three miles won’t be a problem and it is easy to see why he heads the market. Spider Web was a well-backed winner of the Munster National at Limerick last time by three quarters of a length from Na Trachtalai Abu, looking held at the last but finding plenty to lead close home, proving without doubt that three miles is his optimum trip. There could be more to come from him, an 8 lb rise not looking insurmountable, and it would be folly to ignore his claims.

How about this for a finishing effort? Spider Web wins the JT McNamara Ladbrokes Munster National! @LimerickRaces pic.twitter.com/KNcoNKwQ62 — At The Races (@AtTheRaces) October 14, 2018

The one to side with, though, could be Tout Est Permis, who was strong in the betting and made a winning start for Noel Meade at Galway in October, travelling smoothly and asserting nicely on the run-in to win by six lengths. He looked a different proposition that day, winning with a fair bit more in hand than the margin suggests, and should have even more to offer on that evidence. A 10 lb rise in the weights looks justified, and for all this is a much stronger race, double-figure odds look enticing for one of the more upwardly-mobile types in the race. The Monksfield Novices’ Hurdle earlier on the card could also go the way of Noel Meade, who saddles First Approach. The lightly-raced five-year-old made a good impression when making a winning hurdling debut at Downpatrick earlier this month, jumping far better than his rivals. There should be a fair bit more to come from him, and he is expected to take this rise in class in his stride. Dinons has won his last five starts over hurdles and is accorded plenty of respect for Gordon Elliott, but he is very much a galloper, and isn’t sure to be suited by this drop back in trip. Unfortunately, Mengli Khan hasn’t been declared for the beginners’ chase later on the card, denying us a rematch between the Supreme third and fourth, but Paloma Blue stands his ground and he’s fancied to make a winning debut over fences in a race won by the best of Willie Mullins in recent years, Al Boum Photo following in the footsteps of Vautour, Douvan and Min when scoring 12 months ago. Mullins is unrepresented this year, but Paloma Blue has long appealed as the type to flourish over the bigger obstacles, and should prove too classy for Duca de Thaix, who has experience on his side, and may be the one to give Henry de Bromhead’s ace the most to do.

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Rapid-Fire Reviews: We Cast Our Vote for ABC's The Mayor and Marvel At How Truly Bad Inhumans Is

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Rapid-Fire Reviews: We Cast Our Vote for ABC's The Mayor and Marvel At How Truly Bad Inhumans Is

Rev your DVRs, the 2017 fall TV season is here!

Ahhh, don’t you just love the start of a new season, with so many fresh new shows making their debuts, hoping to earn a season pass from viewers in an ever-crowded landscape. And with so many new series on so many new platforms, it can be overwhelming trying to decide which ones to devote your previous time to, which is where we come in.

Our TV Team is offering up their quick and dirty thoughts on all of the new broadcast dramas and comedies debuting in September and October with our rapid-fire reviews. First up? ABC’s new offerings…

The Mayor Premiere Date: Tuesday, Oct. 3 at 9:30 p.m. Time-Slot Competition: Bull (CBS), This Is Us (NBC), Brooklyn Nine-Nine (Fox), DC’s Legends of Tomorrow (The CW) Stars: Brandon Michael Hall, Lea Michele, Bernard David, Marcel Spears and Yvette Nicole Brown

Tierney Bricker: The Mayor earns my vote for the best new comedy of the season. Brandon Michael Hall has charisma for days, and it’s so fun to see Lea Michele play outside of Ryan Murphy‘s sandbox for a change. (But please get her on American Horror Story ASAP, please and thank you!).

Chris Harnick: This is cute and funny and fits right in with ABC’s comedy brand. Definitely poised to be one of the shows to watch this year.

Lauren Piester: If I could hug a TV show, I would hug The Mayor. And I’d hug it so hard that it would be like “This is weird.” It’s nice and timely but optimistic as opposed to depressing, and the cast is delightful. Yvette Nicole Brown might have found her best role yet. 

Billy Nilles: Without a doubt, this is the best new comedy of the season. Brandon Michael Hall is poised to be the year’s breakout star as Courtney Rose, the upstart rapper whose mayoral campaign publicity stunt proves more successful than he bargained for. The idea is fresh, the comedy is sweet and charming, and Yvette Nicole Brown, as Courtney’s mom Dina, has never been better. The Mayor absolutely has my vote.

The Good Doctor Premiere Date: Monday, Sept. 25 at 10 p.m. Time-Slot Competition: Scorpion (CBS), The Brave (NBC) Stars: Freddie Highmore, Antonia Thomas, Nicholas Gonzalez, Chuku Modu, Beau Garrett, Hill Harper, Richard Schiff and Tamlyn Tomita

Tierney Bricker: This is not really my jam, but I don’t fault anyone for wanting to put it on their toast, if you know what I mean? You probably don’t. Also, Highmore continues to be one of the most underrated actors on TV. 

Chris Harnick: Freddie Highmore is going from killing people to saving people with ABC’s ambitious new drama. FYI: He also said that quote during every interview/appearance at TCA. Some of the other casting for this feels out of place, but if you were a fan of House and Highmore, set your DVR, but be warned: There are still kinks to be worked out for sure.

Lauren Piester: Everything about this show in theory sounds annoying, because the “doctor who’s bad with people but good with medicine” has been done to death (and by the same creator, too). But The Good Doctor is actually sweet and thoughtful and comforting and the pilot might have made me cry just a little bit. Add in the hot doctors sleeping with each other and that’s everything I need from a medical drama. 

Billy Nilles: It certainly feels like creator David Shore has done this show before, but Freddie Highmore‘s Dr. Shaun Murphy is certainly much more sympathetic than Dr. House ever was. There’s a lot of heart here, especially coming from Richard Schiff as Shaun’s mentor and protector Dr. Aaron Glassman, but there isn’t much originality. 

Marvel’s Inhumans  Premiere Date: Friday, Sept. 29 at 9 p.m. Time-Slot Competition: Hawaii Five-0 (CBS), Taken (NBC), The Exorcist (Fox), Jane the Virgin (The CW) Stars: Anson Mount, Serinda Swan, Ken Leung, Eme Ikwuakor, Isabelle Cornish, Ellen Woglom and Iwan Rheon

Tierney Bricker: You know how in movies they will have characters go see a fake movie or play a trailer for a fake movie a la Tropic Thunder? This show feels like that for superhero shows, with Jessica Jones watching for 10 seconds before changing the channel. Good idea, not the best execution, unfortunately. 

Chris Harnick: If you are curious about Inhumans, check out Paul Jenkins and Jae Lee‘s excellent Marvel comic series from 1998. That’s my polite way of saying stay as far away from this as possible.

Lauren Piester: I like the giant teleporting dog, I guess. But I also hate the giant teleporting dog? 

Billy Nilles: A hero who can’t speak because his voice is powerful enough to destroy planets. A giant teleporting dog. A secret city on the moon in danger of being exposed to Earth. If you want balls-to-the-wall insanity, Inhumans has it in spades. If you want thoughtful writing and production value worthy of the Marvel name, well, you might want to look elsewhere.

ABC

Ten Days in the Valley Premiere Date: Sunday, Oct. 1 at 10 p.m. Time-Slot Competition: Madam Secretary (CBS) Stars: Kyra Sedgwick, Erika Christensen, Abigail Pniowsky, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Francois Battiste, Felix Solis, Josh Randal, Kick Gurry, Malcolm-Jamal Warner and Ella Thomas

Tierney Bricker: I feel like ABC’s been looking for a successor to Revenge (but season one Revenge, not the rest of the seasons of Revenge) and I feel like this soapy and ridiculous-yet-totally-watchable thriller starring Kweeeeen Kyra might just be their best shot. 

Chris Harnick: Is this this year’s The Family? Seems like it. There’s a solid leading actress (Kyra Sedgwick) saddled with a mystery in a very meh show. Maybe Sedgwick should’ve chatted with Joan Allen.

Lauren Piester: I’m confused…yet intrigued. There is a LOT going on in this show, but if you like mysteries and the entertainment industry, there is fun to be had. 

Billy Nilles: This is a very busy premiere, introducing about seven subplots in one hour, and it can feel like a lot at times. But Kyra Sedgwick’s turn as harried TV producer Jane Sadler successfully sheds the image seven seasons of The Closer cultivated and the whodunnit surrounding the disappearance of her young daughter is enough to keep me coming back for me. Here’s hoping the creators keep their word and actually end this limited series after the titular ten days.

Kevin (Probably) Saves the World Premiere Date: Tuesday, Oct. 3 at 10 p.m. Time-Slot Competition: NCIS: New Orleans (CBS), Law & Order True Crime: The Menendez Murders (NBC) Stars: Jason Ritter, Kimberly Hebert Gregory, JoAnna Garcia Swisher, J.August Richards, India de Beaufort, Chloe Easti and Dustin Ybarra

Tierney Bricker: Kevin might save the world, but Jason Ritter’s charm-for-days can’t save this show for me. Womp-womp. Cute yet forgettable, like a straight-to-On Demand movie.

Chris Harnick: ABC is smart to want to be in the Jason Ritter business, he’s one of the most charming actors on TV and certainly the best part of this weird pilot. It’s OK, not great, and not something I will be watching. If you like Jason Ritter, you’ll be into this, for a bit at least.

Lauren Piester: There’s nothing truly objectionable going on here and it could be a sweet show, but something in the pilot felt off, like no one’s sure what the tone is supposed to be. But this is at least better than that other ill-fated guardian angel show with Jane Lynch. 

Billy Nilles: This spiritual series, which tasks title character Kevin with having to find 35 worthy souls to help save the world (at least I think that’s what the quest is), will live or die based on Jason Ritter‘s winning charm. He bounces off his supporting cast with ease, generating instant chemistry, but the “guardian angel making him look crazy” schtick could get old fast. Hopefully the show can find a way to avoid that because there could be something really special here if done right.

Which of ABC’s new fall shows are you looking forward to? Tweet @EOnlineTV with your pick!

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So, I decided to make this blog post a bit more pictorial than literary since I have so many fabulous photos I want to share with you all from this remarkable day. I like to think of it as my photo diary through Paris… anyway….

WHAT I WORE:

Shoes–Nine West , Coat–Forever 21, Purse–Jules Kae, Dress – Eloquii, Tights–HUE

After window shopping around town we headed to the Louvre. We entered through the Jardin des Tuileries which even on the cloudiest of days was one of the most beautiful parks I’ve ever seen. The Jardin des Tuileries is a garden/park that surrounds the Louvre which was once the Palais Royal. Walking along the path that lead to the Louvre I loved seeing the street artists selling their work and this one man who I called “The Pigeon Man” herding his flock of pigeons as if he were choreographing a dance; The Pigeon Dance instead of the Chicken Dance! Haha. It was pretty cool to witness. Walking towards the arc that lead into the grounds of the Louvre my heart beat began getting faster and faster. I have wanted to come here my entire life, and seeing it in all of its glory felt unbelievably surreal. I simultaneously felts as if I was there before and if I had never been. (strange feeling) I kept having to ground myself to actually realize I was there. When we got to the campus we did what bloggers (cough cough, tourists) do naturally…took pictures and lots of them!

I AM THE BIGGEST KID AT HEART IN THE WORLD SO, I HAD TO BE THE ULTIMATE TOURIST…and talk photographs like these…

I’ve never been one to partake in ultra touristy activities when traveling. I prefer to do things as the locals do. But sometimes you just been to go all out and be the tourist your heart desires. I chose to act in the fashion at the Louvre. I’ve wanted to come here for as long as I could remember, mostly to see the art and witnessing Michelangelo’s portrait of a subtly smiling Mona Lisa. However, I couldn’t leave without taking photos by the pyramids and pond. Another Louvre photo moment that I needed to fulfill like a kid at Disney World taking a photo with Mickey Mouse, was standing on one of the platforms and pretending to touch the pyramid. (giggles) And, guess what?  I DID IT LIKE A PRO! (more giggles) I will be honest, being in a dress and trying to step up on the 4 foot pillar was not an easy task, getting down was even worse. But, it was probably really funny to watch. My favorite moment was when I pretended to act like a Degas ballerina because degas is my favorite artist. When at the Louvre….right? I will say however, to our surprise the Louvre was closed the day we went and I did not get to see the Mona Lisa or any other of the artwork I have been so excited to see. Oh Well, I’ll just have to go next time…

Seine, Musée d’Orsay, and Le pont des Arts (You know, the Lock Bridge!)

As we kept touring I really wanted to take a walk along the Seine!  I kept picturing myself as Leslie Caron in my all time favorite movie “An American in Paris” or as one of the characters in the Woody Allen movie, “Midnight in Paris“. It was really pretty to see the contrast of the fall clouds and bright colors of the trees reflecting off the river.  To my left was the Musée d’Orsay, another museum I really wanted to go to but did not have the time to on this trip. As we kept walking I asked my beau where the lock bride was and if we were near by. It just so happened that we were only a 7-10 minute walk from it so on we went in search of Le Pont des Arts (also known us Americans as the lock bridge) I knew they had taken most, if not all the locks off of the bridge a few months before my visit because of the weight of the locks destroying the infrastructure of the bridge (which is kind of scary) but I was happy to see that people still keep the tradition a live by locking their love to the bridge. It’s a pretty romantic gesture, if I do say so myself or maybe it is for a non-parisiene. I must add that Le Pont de Arts did have a very beautiful view of Paris. I needed a moment to rest so I just needed on the wall basking in the beauty of the Seine and thinking to myself, “Dara, you are actually here!”, as I did many, many, many times on this trip and thinking how much fun I was purely having so far with the company I was with. After, we walked back to the Jardin des Tuileries to head towards Champs Elysee and tumbled upon a part of the park that I kept asking about, but did not know how to explain at all, since I’ve only seen it in photographs! It was the nicest surprise and I was in pure awe! We stopped and sat on a bench for a little while to enjoy the parks surroundings and plan the rest of the evening. While sitting on the bench we were across from a group of teenage boys were all complaining about girls. Girls they were dating, girls they had crushes on, or girls that were giving them hard times about everything under the sun. It was really funny to see that the same teenage shenanigans happen all over the world. It put a smile on my face and I thought it precious. I wanted to interject with a joke but then realized they would have had zero idea what I was saying. I can understand a lot of french but I can’t speak very well….I’m learning, I’m learning!

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Place De La Concorde (You know, where Ann Hathaway tossed her phone into the fountain at the end of The Devil Wears Prada! Yes, I went there, No I didn’t toss my phone!)

Okay my lovely readers, If you have gotten this far I am super impressed with you and you deserve a crescent! (giggles) So, there’s something that I’ve always wanted to do. The only person that really knew about this is my mom. I was a soon to be freshman at FIT when the movie The Devil Wears Prada came out and it was the best “Welcome to New York” movie that could have been made. Timing on this could not have been more perfect. So, you know at the end of the movie Andie and Miranda go to Paris for Paris Fashion Week and then Andie quits her job by throwing her ever so annoyingly ringing cell phone into the fountain? Well, I have always wanted to reenact this scene. I have no idea why, but I always found it super dramatic and funny at the same time! hmm? Anyway, as we walking through Les Jardin des Tuileries up to Les Place De La Concorde I started smiling so hard my face almost cracked. YOU GUYS!!! I CAN NO THROW MY CELL PHONE INTO THE FOUNTAIN!!!!! Okay, well not really! I thought about faking it for a picture but then realized with my luck, I would have accidentally dropped it and then in that moment I would kissed goodbye my entire day…trip…year…life? (giggles) But taking photos by the fountain was just as good for me. There are many of them in the Place De La Concorde that are larger than life and utterly beautiful. I couldn’t get enough and did not want to leave this area! It was so beautiful and I can’t wait to go back again! Maybe this time I’ll take an old cell phone and reenact the scene…I just don’t want to get arrested in doing so! (hahahaha)

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Avenue Montaigne – CHANEL, CELINE, GUCCI…OH MY!

As we walked and walked and walked some more we landed at Avenue Montaigne – the most glorious street any fashion enthusiast would have couture cardiac arrest at. It was like being on Madison Ave and Rodeo Drive but with more polish and panache! There is nothing more I can really say about this street other that it is absolutely beautiful. I had fun exploring the different designer shops and being treated to personal tours by a sales person of what the hottest selling items were and what the hottest items from the last collections were. It was rather special and I enjoyed every minute of it. Even thought I have been to these stores in the states, something about going into a Chanel in Paris amplified its ambiance to me! It felt more authentic. If only I could have gone on a shopping spree, but hey…a girls gotta eat right? Or maybe I should have cashed in all my money for that Chanel I had been eyeing….oh well! (hahaha)

TOUR EIFEL – SEE IT SPARKLE AND SHINE LIKE CHAMPAGNE

Avenue Montaigne was beautiful but it was almost 6pm and the shops were closing. So on we went towards more fun. We walked around a lot and as it got darker I started to see a very bright beam circling the sky. I knew at that moment it was the Eiffel Tower. My beau told me that’s where we were walking to and I was so surprised. He wanted me to see it for my very first time at night. At this point we were about a 15-20 minute walk from there and my feet and legs were on fire from walking around for almost six hours non stop. So, we decided to hop in a taxi because there was no way I’d be able to enjoy myself the rest of the night if I kept walking. While in the taxi we passed the Moulin Rouge and the Arc de Triumph. While at a traffic light I was asking the cab driver not to move since I needed to take a picture of it. BY beau was laughing at me because I completely forgot that the taxi driver probably didn’t speak English and I was just chatting away saying “PLEASE DO NOT MOVE THE CAR!!! I NEED TO GET THIS PHOTO!! OKAY…..ONE MORE….OKAY…We’re good you can go now!!” But I think he got the point since I was so loud! But hey, I need to get my shot, which I did. Thank you taxi driver for stopping and probably thinking I am a crazy American! For the rest of the car ride, I was not allowed to look out the window and had to sit facing inward so I would not see the Eiffel Tower by car. It was a very sweet gesture and I am so glad my beau did this. So for the rest of the car ride I was basically sitting side-saddle, but it didn’t stop there. As we got out of the taxi I had to walk the entire way with my eyes closed. That was pretty terrifying since the streets were packed and knowing me, I’d trip, fall and break my ankle. (laughs) But my beau held my hand, lead the way allowing me to arrive at the Eiffel Tower in one piece. As we got to the pavilion after walking up a few steps blindly, he told me to close my eyes and stand here. He had me stand there for what felt like 10 minutes but I know it was only about 30 seconds. He then said, “OPEN YOUR EYES!!” and so I did. The Eiffel tower was sparkling in full effect and it was the most magical moment thus far in Paris! We stopped to take some pictures and walked closer and closer to the Eiffel Tower till we were standing underneath it. On the way I found a carousel that I just had to stop and look at. I love carousels. At this time it was around 8PM and the line to go to the top was too long so we decided to go on a river cruise instead. Although freezing, was so much fun and a nice way to enjoy the city of lights by water. Towards the middle of the tour we got glasses of champagne. Yes, it was really nice however I am really glad my beau was the first to state how horrible it tasted. I didn’t want to be rude. But we both laughed then tossed it into the Seine! Yuck! I never knew Champagne could taste so terrible. You live and learn, I guess. (haha) On the boat there was a concession stand that sold food that had a sign for Manhattan Hot Dogs this made me giggle. Taking in all of the sights and being educated about the monuments being shown was a real treat and I am so happy we did this.

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DINNER FOR TWO –

Afterwards we headed to dinner, that was super comforting and delicious! I don’t remember the name of the restaurant but it felt just like home. It had a very young professional, after work scene that was really refreshing and the food was really good, too! We sat there for a long time talking about the day and so much more. After one of the groups of friends decided to close the place down with a dance party that was very fun to watch. We could have joined if our feet weren’t hurting us so much! It was now about 1am and our tired feet needed to get to sleep because we were heading to DISNEY LAND in the morning…..

xoxo Dara Senders – The Style Senders

An American In Paris: Oh La La Louvre, Place De La Concorde & Avenue Montaigne, Tour Eiffel So, I decided to make this blog post a bit more pictorial than literary since I have so many fabulous photos I want to share with you all from this remarkable day.

[lafseanchai]

2017 - my plan

So January 1st is admittedly a bit of a wash for me in terms of getting things done, as we have a Christmas get together with my mom’s side of the family, but today I am going to outline my plans and goals for this year.  Hopefully putting it into writing will help me stay on track, and maybe some of you, my amazing friends, can help keep me accountable too.  But only if you want. 

1) Make healthier choices.

 I don’t want to fall into a diet trap and let my brain get twisted by thinking my physical appearance is what matters.  That said, I am at what is probably my heaviest weight to date right now.  After I broke my leg, I obviously gained weight and lost muscle tone, and even though I am fully recovered, I didn’t get back into any sort of work out plan and my eating went to crap, especially with the holidays. And I got a different job, while being far superior in pay and work conditions, is far more sedentary.  A lot of my clothes don’t fit anymore, and I don’t fit into my saddle very well either.  So I need to get back into shape, make better food choices so I have more natural energy and not just sugar rushes.  So these are going to be healthy lifestyle choices and not just a weightloss focus. 

2) Finish my NaNo project rough draft by the end of this month, and get it into finished shape before NaNo this year.

This is a project that I’m quite excited about, between the Robin Hood legend and all the ladies characters that have been both planned and have created themselves in the course of writing it.  And I’m trying to write more diverse characters, in race and culture and sexuality.  (My Robin Hood is a lady and ace, and Marian is a lesbian, though as it’s set in the reign of William Rufus, they certainly don’t have those terms).  I have some hope of publishing, though that is probably going to be the goal for next year.  This can be adjusted.

3) Write more in general.

I have fic ideas that have been bubbling for awhile, and ideas for more original fiction as well.  

4) Read more, and read more diversely.  

I read 32 books from last March to the end of the year; that was when I started keeping track.  I want to read more, and I want and need to expand my reading list to include books by POC, queer authors.  So if you have recommendations, fiction and non fiction both, please send them to me!

5) Get a truck and trailer and get my horse and myself to practices and competitions.

The weather has been awful for riding and trailering, especially since the trailer itself is wearing out, and the truck has to be shared between my dad and me, since it is his.  I have a bad habit of wrecking the vehicles when I trailer Beau as well.  Literally have not had a time where something went wrong.  I hope that a better vehicle and or better planning will eliminate those issues.  Beau has talent, we are both bored, and it is fun to chase cattle.  So I want to do more this year. 

6) Get more knowledgeable in the politics and the policies around it that will affect me and the future.  

There’s a march this month that I am planning to go to, and several other things I am looking into to get involved with.  2016 was a year of rage and frustration, including at my own ignorance in some areas, 2017 will be a year of work for me.  

7) Try some dating

If there is possibly some time between everything else, I want to try to date.  There is something of insecurity and other stupid things behind this, with my sister just getting engaged.  And I predict I will be single forever, and I’m generally okay with that, but I’ve decided I need to at least try.  And since this is also tangled up with my journey to figure out my sexuality, I want to get out into the queer lady dating scene.  (This is also tangled up with issues with my parents and my struggles with religion, so this one is probably the most insane thing I have planned for this year.  And I want to buy a fucking truck. Oi).

Anyway, this is my plan for 2017.