Feyberry could not decide if she should attend to the rotting
Fordim with a mop and bucket or with a spade.
"After all," she said to herself, "compost
does happen and Bethberry's garden does do so well with the organic stuff." She looked again at Fordim after observing the various hugging positions which various BDers invented to circumvent any nasal distance that was more close than necessary. She particularly noted the retching condition whick
Glirdan was heroically attempting to hold down and decided that perhaps a cup of stiff Stärbűcks or Tîm Hňrténs mojo might be called for. She sighed in remembrance of
Barrow Wight's
Coffee and wondered what she could do to help
Celuien with her allergies. "Surely Bethberry must have a herbal remedy?" Feyberry decided to confer with the forum moderator about the propriety of such in the game before offering it, however.
Yet after all this rumination and hugging, Feyberry thought she observed more aspects of Fordim's resurrection. She was sure she saw his nose growing.