affame_le_geant_all_things_die fyn gula puppertwinkle sighed. it was so good to hear the words of saumboo again. they were, if tinged a little with self-resentment, solidly founded in love. however, the burning in his skin was as constant as the coming of darkness. and his enjoyment was never in the shine of sun, only under heavy cloud cover and blustery winter wind. when the air carries wispy rain that could freeze. tripod told him they needed to find some miracle2 neutralizer gel. mixed properly with aloe vera. apply it as a poultice. it will definately soothe the burning and maybe even heal the problem. "good idea," puppertwinkle mumbled. "but where will i find any?" "the best source in eastern strada is actually across the bay bridge on the island of rynomari where robin_hill actually exists. there lives the lady with the chestnut hair," tripod said, matter of factly, for she lives at robinhill in another life form. "we should go there," puppertwinkle said, "to tell her i need her. i'm a mess. i'm going to fucking lose my mind with this burning!" "no body said it was easy. no one said it would be this hard. i'm sorry." tripod said. she showed an uncharacteristic sensitive side. the little dog realized it was pity for what lay ahead. puppertwinkle moaned. he laid down and his head, spinning with misery, slumped like a rotten pumpkin on to his paws. he curled up in a fetus position. he stretched all the way out. over and over, attempting to find one moment of relief. as the sound of emptiness is silence, so he discovered nothing to soothe himself... all things die. even burning in the skin. but replacing it was an enemy just as intent upon destruction. itching. 021222 ... . . 080902 what's it to you? who go blather from