— his spectacled eyes. His mouth breaks open into a grin, and parts to hark a call.

❝ Hey, Evans. How about I jinx Sniverllus's underpants off as a token of my love? ❞ § any era § descriptive § open to plot § RT ?

— plates, bowls and jugs on the lengthy ancient table. "— and THAT!" Such war cries, no wonder he is always heard over the greens.

— frightful heart. A poet's soul would rather be blessed with a kiss at least once before he passed."

For the record, he wasn't shopping for clothes. HOWEVER, he wouldn't mind offering his assistance.