There's a valley of thorns for the rich and the poor. It comes for the boys and it comes for the girls. Pricking tendril will find their skin till teeth taste blood and your flesh meet his. Wooden razor tongues twisting through the smells it feeds and it hungers the bloodlust to swell. Oh, your luscious stench it grabs your legs with greed. You are by far the sweetest meat. And he has such a need.