Coatleque read down the scroll and picked up the charcoal with weary sigh. She began to write in a flowing and practiced script...
"The poor Morbol twitched in it's last moments as it lay there on the ground, and an almost apologetic sounding yet gutteral groan was heard as a single tentacle procured (from somewhere unseen) a half-eaten sweetroll, holding it forth to the princess."
"The poor Morbol twitched in it's last moments as it lay there on the ground, and an almost apologetic sounding yet gutteral groan was heard as a single tentacle procured (from somewhere unseen) a half-eaten sweetroll, holding it forth to the princess."
