> I like...got them new collars!
The poor collages of electric wiring, discarded rotting paint and metal plates seemed as suffocating at they did tetanus-inducing. The groundhog gulped at Jerm in silent pleading, about as effective as all the other pleading he's been privy to the majority of his life. He took note of the adam's apple, thin and more like a shaved avocado seed, for reference. It was, if not pleasurable, relieving to have his artistic eye overtake his underfed stomach.
> *That's good, Miss Catty.*
> *Just make sure to make them looser next time.*
> I tried!
> They keep like, biting them off!
> ...Why'd you call me miss?
> *Respect. You're t'leader of this group.*
> Jerm, I was with you as a baby!
> I'm basically like your second...
> Sorry.
> *Yeah.*
> She'll be back. I know she will.
> If I can remember her. That's all I have to do.
She scratched at the denim patches on her dress, a scant sign of blue next to the leather padding and fading tie dye that marked the band of the Tailor—what she was called when one couldn't risk saying "Lizard" and were too kind to call her the somehow less affectionate nickname, "The Tattered."
> *I'll be off soon.*
> Okay...
Message too long. Click
here
to view full text.