Happy Birthday Elder Sprog!

The Elder Sprog turns eight today.

And there she is, in all her gap-tooth glory:

She’s all right, I think I’ll keep her.

HAPPY DAY, NOA KITTEN!

and in other news, I have a new favourite line in the book that isn’t called SRR:

And any ill-luck that comes to Pelimburg now will be blamed on Ilven’s dive, on the alchemy of falling girls and broken-glass sea.

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cat_hellisen

I write.