The Crescent Heir
DemiurgosWerewolfHybridLunaAlphaPregnantReject
"Ohh, feed the horses, lalalala, lalalala,
Breadcrumbs, haystacks, tra-la-la-la-la!
Silage from a bag, oh my sweet Lord, what a drag,
But the horses do a happy little jig and brag!
Ohh, feed the horses, lalalala, lalalala,
They'll neigh for more till the break of dawn-a-la!
Toss 'em breadcrumbs, toss 'em hay,
They'll love you then they'll trot away."
She swayed to her own imaginary rhythm, watching as Isabeau clutched her tablet to her chest as if it were a shield against such madness. Her eyes twitched behind her glasses.