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“These things need to be exorcised. No domesticated animal should move like that.”
“I will forever delight in the memory of you—red-faced and screaming like an ugly newborn.”
Beyond them, Alistair rode on the back of one of the forest bulls—whooping with glee.
“You are as poor-mannered as the divine oracle’s raccoon.”
“Good news, everyone!” Alistair whooped somewhere south. “Sea serpents can be ridden!”
“She’s an elf…is she allowed to say this?”
carrying Trash Panda. (It was a display of strength, as the portly raccoon’s fat rolls spilled over his arms.)
