A sword needs always consider the hand that wields it.
Family matters are always a source of confusing feelings, aren't they? What a paranoid, narcissistic lot we are. Perhaps my sire was right to leave me buried to hatch and mature alone; Perhaps it is time we finally spit out the tail.
Their grandsires awaken on a nightly basis, hungry for the blood of their descendants, and still they play as though the game has no terminus? A fine trick, convincing the larder to tend to itself.
Ugh, stop proselytizing and do something about it. Secular nonsense.
Honestly, it is hard believe I was ever so delicious.
The destiny of this world was decided long ago. No prattling mortal Art can change that.
Phhhhhbt-! Really?! Do they taste like Lucky Charms?
