The dust falls away and makes a tinkling sound as you pull upon this embedded line--hook-split, through my well wine-blushed tongue. Tender flesh parts like butter and reaffirms itself around and behind your baited enchantments. Tongue is whole, intact again... I carefully test it along the tight rim of my little white teeth. Silver hook soundfully placed back inside your tackle-box. Gold line, slinkily enwrapping itself 'round your casting line spindle.
Wizard of Time, why do you wake with me?
