The Jade wrote:
Milady, were you not the mother of mine own good friend I dread what leonine passions I might unleash upon thine ample and pleasing form. For the seeded chill within my bones suckles at the kettle warmth of your embrace, reigniting memories long lost, restoring those merry times with fast friends and few concerns. You return me my youth like a noonday rowboat gliss across a placid lake, but I shall burden you no further, save for the most courtly of love in gratitude.
Expect a few odes from time to time as well, as I'm given to mad fits of their composing.
::Uses the aforementioned 10' pole to vault into a nearby thicket of reeds, hiding from Lord Sebastian's punitory, roving reach.::
Just think Jade, some day I might call you Dad.