affame_le_geant_opening_the_lid fyn gula when saumboo suggested opening the box's lid, puppertwinkle hesitated. "had he not read the story of pandora?" the little dog thought. he approached everything with fear, as if paranoia was a choking collar around his flea-bitten neck and the devil fucking yanked him with a leash made from a rusty chain. "estoy asustado ver cual esta adentro," puppertwinkle said, shaking with trepidation. he was afraid to see what was inside. the words fell out of him like burdens he was delivering. "confieme en," saumboo said, encouraging the little dog to trust him. "tengo una sensacion que alguien desea ayudamos." he had a feeling that someone had given them the box in order to help them, not hurt them. "que sobre feignez?" puppertwinkle said, blinking his eyes several times, for they watered when he was scared. "no podriamos confiarla en." he remembered the deceptive bird that tricked frau werzenwozen and nearly led them to their deaths. she came saying she was going to help, but she could not be trusted. "esto es diferente," saumboo said, and for a second he had pleasure thinking of the wingless feignez wondering about vulnerable. perhaps she ended up in the mouth of a feral cat. he tried to convince puppertwinkle that this was different. "las proguntas son personalas a nuestro viade, mas alla de, presente, y futoro. necesitamos ayuda que deciden que hacer, entendiendo de adonde vinimos, y que miente delante de nosotros." he explained that the four questions on the lid of the box were personal to their journey, past, present, and future. they needed help deciding what to do next, understanding where they came from, and with what lies ahead. saumboo's brow knitted together. "dentro de esta caja apenas puede estar nuestro deliverance," he said. he was convinced that the contents inside the box just may be their deliverance. what happened next did not surprise saumboo. puppertwinkle broke into tears and the sound of it was as if his heart was paper violently ripped, not just in half, but over and over until it became confetti, snow falling form a sky whose skin had been wounded. "shh, shhhh. hush, calma abajo," saumboo said. although he could no longer gather the little dog in his arms like he wished, his continuing words of comfort were like tender, solicitious, embraces. have you ever had a mate who, no matter how bleak a situation seemed, or how scary, dire, or hopeless life appeared, they managed to give mouth to mouth to your dying optimism and resuscitated your dismal outlook? saumboo was this for puppertwinkle. his tears were the evidence of his revelation. now assured, he wiped away his fear and opened the lid of the box. 020907 what's it to you? who go blather from