A vulgar screech, like nails on a chalk board, impregnated the air. The birds that had been nonchalantly perched among the many tree branches took to the skies while letting out cries of their own. The sound was dreadful but the source of the disturbance was not clear. Not until the grulla harlot stepped into the glade however. Sybil’s jaws were parted wide and from her gullet came the vilest rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star that had ever been produced. Sybil’s movements were dramatic as she seemed to saunter and dance at the same time, making for quite a spectacle I’m sure. The ugly femme tossed her skull in every direction as she belted the lyrics passionately; rising up on her posterior limbs she reached for ghosts begging them to tango with her. Transporting her pistons back to the soil Sybil swapped her front legs with her back as she kicked at the canopy haphazardly. Sybil was in her own little world as usual. A world where she is Lady Gaga and everyone else is her biggest fan, where she is Jesus and all other life merely her disciples. You are lucky to hear her musical talents, and don’t you forget it.

After a few moments more of this wonderful performance something stirred within the forest and brought Sybil to an abrupt halt. Sybil’s dome was elevated as her horns swiveled about probing for the individual whom dared disturb her grand show. Cold cerulean slit pits glared at the foliage that flanked her with suspicion. A snort was expelled harshly from her nostrils as Sybil’s previously enquiring audits fell back against her crania out of displeasure. Well whatever it was had gone and had taken her groove mood with it. Relaxing her posture Sybil dropped her head to the level of her bodice and began to move through the shrubbery once more, slithering through the trunks of the sundry trees like a pestilential serpent. There was no destination on the agenda for this mare. Sybil had known nothing but the existence of a vagabond and as she slunk her way through the Threshold she anticipated nothing more than for it to be yet another place to rest her loony head for the night. She was bursting with low expectations.

As Sybil opened her maw to commence her stupendous song she was cut short when she stumbled upon a cluster of rabbits to her right, behind a thorn bush, quietly munching on a bed of clovers. A rascally grin mutilated Sybil’s lips revealing her mouth full of jagged and yellowed incisors as she pondered what shenanigans she could unleash. Gradually she rotated, sinking her head out of their line of vision, and went into stealth mode. Unobtrusively she made her way towards them, trying her best not to laugh, in an instant she was behind the bush and ready for the assault. With all her force Sybil pushed off from the terrain and launched herself over the barb infested shrub towards the hares who had, just seconds prior, been blissfully unaware of the tomfoolery that was about to unfold. Landing with a thud Sybil had her optics equal with theirs and in the blink of an eye she began to roar at them, spittle and chunks of last night’s dinner making a new home within their adorable fur. As was expected the diminutive critters darted and when they did Sybil seized the nearest one by the tail and pitched it into the air wickedly. When the inauspicious bunny finally made it back to earth and gathered his wits Sybil began to giggle which rapidly escalated into a cackle and the next thing Sybil knew she was laying in the grass convulsing violently with glee.

I believe I forgot to inform you that our dear Sybil here is indeed mad, as mad as one can get. Welcome to another day in the life of a lunatic.