Rose Saraland Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Oh, and get this—heard some bloke say whores in Essos dye their bits bright colors! Red, blue—like a bleedin’ rainbow down there! True or not, I dunno, but I’m imaginin’ it now, and it’s fuckin’ hilarious. Me, I’d rather burn ‘em all than join ‘em, but that’s just Cersei, eh? Cold disdain, that’s me—watchin’, judgin’, sippin’ me wine while they rot. Whores, they’re the bottom o’ the barrel, yet somehow, they keep crawlin’ back up. Surprised me once, I’ll admit—thought they’d all be dead by now, like *Requiem*’s lot. “It’s not over!” they’d cry. Oh, it is, sweetling—just wait.

About Saraland

I must tell ya, Saraland got these neighborhoods: Old Town is grungy and raw, but cool, like mismatched socks. And Westside, oh man, so unpredictable. Here, I once saw a street performer dazzle a crowd – his music brought memories… and a tear, i swear! Made me mad that I couldn’t join in with my awkward dance moves, but hey, ya gotta live dat moment, right?!

Taste of Saraland