Words of the Constant
It's gone cold.
A basic enchantment, but effective.
Not much fuel left.
Quiet before the storm.
Begone, fire!
Fresh from the murky depths.
Truly an ugly creature.
Purple on the outside, pink in the middle.
Delightfully pinstriped.
I'll be picking bones out of my teeth for weeks.
Don't you ever blink?
Don't worry, there's plenty of them in the sea.
I will eat for a lifetime.
They would be much more content in my stomach.
These should tide me over.
Cooked fish in a crunchy shell.
It still stinks.
Who would ever need this many fish?
I need some fish eggs if I want fish.
Success! A fish.
I better not see any rowdiness, fish.
I put the eggs in. Where are my fish?
The more the merrier!
Stay.
It still stinks.
Could use a touch of fire.
Have I been reduced to this?
...Bottoms up.
That puts on quite a spectacle.
Ow! I cut my finger!
Perhaps I could reel it in somehow.
I am filled with the irrational urge to stomp upon it.
Definitely not my style.
Leafy goodness.
It's so dark down here.
It's so dark down here.
It's so dark down here.
I like that flower.
It's no rose.
That thing is quite beneath me.
A meal fit for a peasant.
Now I am ready for the scrimmage.
Deserves to be eaten with fine silverware. Sadly, I've just my hands.
It croaked.
It jumps and licks things.
It looks tired.
Has a bit of a kick to it.
Muscular.
Stringy.
A delicacy, were it not poisoned.