Of course Loren knows how to juggle.
With a predictable roll of her eyes at the Launceleyn, Wessex all of a sudden has a wicked idea. But she’ll need some props, first.
She disappears for a moment (back to warmer climes, to a hen house at a farm in the Outskirts) and then pops back in with three eggs in her hand. Sidling up to the man as he juggles, a shit-eating grin on his face, she innocently tosses an egg into the mix of ice balls. Another quickly follows. And another, hoping to disrupt the rhythm of the scheme and make the man fail miserably.
After all, what’s funnier than the misfortune of others? Particularly if that misfortune means they’re covered in egg yolk.
With a predictable roll of her eyes at the Launceleyn, Wessex all of a sudden has a wicked idea. But she’ll need some props, first.
She disappears for a moment (back to warmer climes, to a hen house at a farm in the Outskirts) and then pops back in with three eggs in her hand. Sidling up to the man as he juggles, a shit-eating grin on his face, she innocently tosses an egg into the mix of ice balls. Another quickly follows. And another, hoping to disrupt the rhythm of the scheme and make the man fail miserably.
After all, what’s funnier than the misfortune of others? Particularly if that misfortune means they’re covered in egg yolk.
The Wraith
the bright
the thing in the night
the bright
the thing in the night
Wessex
