“… I went to Tarth and saw her. I had six years on her, yet the wench could look me in the eye. She was a sow in silk, though most sows have bigger teats. When she tried to talk she almost choked on her own tongue. I gave her a rose and told her it was all that she would ever have from me.” Connington glanced into the pit. “The bear has less hair than that freak…
Jaime’s golden hand cracked him across the mouth so hard the other knight went stumbling down the steps. His lantern fell and smashed, and the oil spread out, burning.
the biggest, thickest ever sky
This is a multi-fandom blog, quickly reduced to gibberish by pretty things, and prone to sudden fits of food porn, art and science.