Princes Die! / Re: None

The metallic custard scent ripped through the
 stegosaurus' nostrils.  Clearly, the monotreme
 journey it would begin as it had ended.
 
 The ponder-tree hung itself in the heavy air,
 it's sap becomming purple, and flowed engimatically
 like a river of broken curves and powdered eggshells.
 
 - A'Tak A'Tdurn