Wanting for no parade of rainbows, no announcement to precede, no swan's song to mark an ending, she leaves but seafoam in the wake of her departure, enfolding a wrinkled, damp scroll. Crabson Crabhands is rather landlocked by his fear, having teeth for hands, and does not approach. Turina Troutmouth is rather amused, but she has no hands, and does not approach. Hyldo Hagfish, however, feels alive beneath the bruised sky, and streaks across the sand to grasp it, unrolling it, hands tarnished by the soluble seal.
    

Quote:

"Dor'alanor.

    

As per the recent petitions from the masses:

       

I have decided by official decree to grant the good Gulinda Goldfins the title of 'Phantom Slayer', for it is no good to ask to be called 'Leviathan Slayer' if one has not slain a leviathan.

   

In accordance with the ongoing feud between the Goldfish and the Koi Fish, I have decided by official decree both of your shades of gold stand as equals, being so magnificently unique they cannot be quantified by silly words such as 'better' or 'worse.'

      

In response to the clergy's wanting for hydraulophones I have commissioned thirty-five from the Biblublublub Blubliblblo Blibububloos, which roughly translates to 'Instruments for Watertreaders.'

     

Any future petitions are to be directed to Lord Protector Kalione Meanderteau, my youngest son, as he is in charge.
Any future songs are to be requested from Lord Protector Kalione Meanderteau, my youngest son, as he is in charge.
Any future disputes are to be resolved by Lord Protector Kalione Meanderteau, my youngest son, as he is in charge
Any deliveries of cake, fresh or not, are to be delivered to the Lord Protector Kalione Meanderteau, as he is hungry.
 

      

If you need me, plea to Leucothea's bowl.

      

I will be watching. I am always watching. They never managed to take the other eye.

       

Delphina's accident-prone tumbleweed, forever and ever, and some time more,

Melionette Alinteau Meandersong."

They look amongst each other. Overseen now by the rascal Kalione, who has learned decency and tenderness. No ruffian, no thief, and certainly no foul beast. A bearer of song, of goodwill, all like the good Songstress. Rightful proprietor of the Songstresses' interests, rightful inheritor of Melionette's lifelong chore by all accounts, made different, primarily, by one certain fact.
 
He is rather green.