Thorn of Discord
L'homme qui est different
"And I had just got my hooves shined too....." She whined. Sighing, Melpomene composed her self yet again, and nonchalantly levitated a juice box. Quickly implanting a minor pang of guilt in the mind of the Mak, she grinned, and felt justified. "Well, I suppose this things do happen from time to time. So, I simply must know how you to met, I would bet you have quite the story." Sipping her juice, she cringed and spat it out. "Sorry, go on."