They smell. Strongly.

The boar is offended by all but himself. It is their way. Simple, and...fat.

Ah, surely. It creates a fine feast for those above.

Two thousand twenty seven likes and The Volibear (Inactive) changes his icon to

"Something you need not do."

Anivia, your...'children'. Er. Hm.

"Simply because I do not wish to...'attach' to them. They must learn, just as all do. ...Even if they have not yet hatched. Have they?"

"Something I /desire/ you not do."

"You need not worry. I dare not meddle with such young hearts; not for their sake, but my own. I suppose your attention will be focused."

Busy, are we.

What of them.

Really, when I want to bite, I want to bite. Biting into cake feels like I just yawned. ...A regrettably good-tasting yawn.

At this rate, I'm going to fall asleep again.

This again.

He thinks I've forgotten about the last blow to my jaw. He'll find out where I chose to relieve myself last. Won't like it when he does. 'Ought to be hilarious.

Snow.

Cannot be me, yet I must be. Cannot eat, yet I must indulge. What next? I cannot bear the storm, yet without it, he finds no reason to speak my name? Ugh. I'd rather just be punched.

He calls it 'Tito'. What. Even gods know that thing's proper name.

I'm the one trying to eat. Ah, I must be too enthusiastic for you. I'll turn the chewing down a notch. Ten to a...nine, that good?