..” The fingers of my left hand, not holding my horse’s bridle, clenched. They itched. “I ... I haven’t truly painted in so long. Not with a r...al brush.” My tongue moistened my lips as I thought, the exhaustion spilling off mind, letting me think. “Illusions aren’t the same. They’re...” I searched for the right word. “They’re too real. Does that makes sense?”Ealaín nodded, her pure-white hair sliding about her ebony features. “They lack any style.”“Yes!” I said, enthusiasm rising me. “There’s. If it was not her idea it just was not done.I did thoroughly enjoy having them laying on either side of me touching and stroking it. I was not totally inexperienced so I knew to put my finger in them but I was more than a little amazed at how much Glenda seemed to like that. I had played doctor in my father's old car with the little girl that lived next door. We were both 5 at the time. I had even been inside her if you can call a 5 year old boys thing a dick. (But that is another story.)There. More

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