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Friday, March 16th, 2007 10:09 pm (UTC)
Then they just hunt for the love of the hunt. It's not about protection, it's about--being what they are. Predators.

Ai, curamba! No--ai, lastima! Pobrecito!

Worlds of possiblity die.

It seems like it really disturbed you, on a lot of levels, and while i kinda want to hug you, i also just love it because it means it *worked*, and i did good, and...

No, I totally get it. You get off on making the reader squirm, then never letting them off the hook. You sick, pre-verted bastid.

Thank you thank you thank you.

No, thank you. Which may sound kinda facetious--or possibly fatuous, I only know but so many f-words beyond the funnest and most obvious one--after all the bitching and moaning I've done, but I mean it. You've just blown my SPN-world view wide. Freakin. Open. You've plumbed whole new depths and I'm even more in awe of you.

This 'verse hurts, but it hurts so good. You give the best angst. I need a cigarette.

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