Sergeant Snips cursed her beautiful, perfect form. She couldn’t form the mouth hole noises, and the master was so kind a soul as to not believe he could be a target of such nefarious plots. He was the type of man that allowed strange, furry interlopers to partake of his harvest; the type of man that would feed a crab without claws, gifting life for no discernible reason; and the type of man that was worth following. Perhaps it was for the best. She would be the one to harbor such dark knowledge and the one to deal out recompense. Sergeant Snips will protect. I will deal with the poisoner.
