affame_le_geant_his_jaw_hurt_like_hell fyn gula the sun, like a little wild animal afraid to come out of hiding, came up furtively on the new day, barely a smudge of blush behind a bruised sky, using the black and grey clouds as a disguise, as if did not want to show its true face to one such as cayris foxglove, who had just destroyed four lives in cold blood, five, when you counted him responsible for the death of the mandrill. he sat comfortably in the spaciousness of his black, locust-wood caravan as it sped along the snow-packed bianca strada, spoked wheels humming upon tracks previously cut by twinkletoes's cardboard cart when it had arrived at praayli and couge's quaint farm not even twenty-four hours ago. poj linnet, second-in-command of "the insufferable hunger of the damned" was seated across from him in what was the middle car, if you will, of a three car caravan, the first being hooked to the six ostrichpower team and driven by keggi truus, whose burned hands on the reins were slathered in aloe and bandaged. eleven other militants were in place behind him, weapons at the ready in anticipation of possible attack. the last and largest car held the remainder of this twisted band of revolutionaries and their supplies. cayris had designed the caravan, a smooth operation, complete with a radiator style heating system with an elaborate and precise network of coils that cycled logburningfire-heated water to provide warmth upon their various winter journeys to establish their self-imposed revolution to the borderlands of boffden-ruled kemulya. cayris stared out the window at the daybreak, the pale light of morning filtering through the bare trees. the final words of twinkletoes were a cancer to his soul. he had never heard anyone with such concise elocution. words with a power to rip one's heart out of their chest and hold it pumping and bleeding. he was permanently stained, branded with doubt and challenge to his insidious form of love-less faith . and the unexpected death of the mandrill was a rug pulled out from under him, completely surprising him and shattering his well-orchestrated plans of takeover. the mandrill was supposed to lead them to the whereabouts of puppertwinkle's flesh. and once they secured it, she would then lead them to puppertwinkle himself, as she was the only one who knew where he was along the bianca strada. and once he was located, she would reattach body to bone. then, with the chosen dog in possession, they would march upon rynomari and declare war, battling for the rights of saumboo which would ultimately lead them to the showdown in the garden of st.francis when dennis browne stands before the portal between worlds. where boffden the beardless gnome's intentions were for unlimited access, back and forth between worlds, cayris would defeat proina and the army of dissolution, as well as boffden and the revolution that will not be televised, and ultimately destroy the bridge between the imagination and reality, and establish dennis browne as leader of kemulya, severing him from his former ties. for there is a hunger that feeds and is never satisfied. the self needs no one. love is the interruption of sleep. but now, as cayris rested his weary head against the glass, he realized everything was falling apart. in twinkletoes there was a contradiction to all he believed in. and what would he do with puppertwinkle's flesh once he recovered it? how would he find the little skeleton dog? and if he did, how would he reattach the flesh? cayris sighed. his jaw hurt like hell. 030309 what's it to you? who go blather from