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The Howlies of my Papillon.
How do you flee my garden?
Marlene Moonshine steps forth, snatching the wild bloom from my hand, she show us.
I first do this. Then this. I slide through. Tah-dah.
She goes to my beloved, her father, consuming her bloom prize.
No sign of misdeed. No stone upturned. The soil unperturbed. Just a tiny heiney running through the bluebonnets to the lake, her reward.