Elizabeth Gotsucho Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sapporo

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the unsung heroes of every tavern I’ve stumbled into, pissed as a newt. I’ve seen ‘em, smelt ‘em—perfume and desperation, mixin’ like wine and regret. One time, in King’s Landing (or was it Dodge City?), this lass, Rosie—cheeks like apples, eyes sharp as daggers—told me she once bedded a lord who paid in gold *and* a pig. A pig! Can ya believe it? Laughed my arse off, spilt me drink. “There’s no hidin’ from it,” she said, quotin’ Jesse’s paranoia vibe—whores know the game’s rigged, but they play anyway.

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So, I hop on the train, and I’m thinkin’ about my trees. They’re waitin’ for me. Gotsucho was a blast, but home is where the heart is. And my heart? It’s in the forest, chillin’ with my leafy pals. Can’t wait to tell ‘em all about my crazy day!