CampfireCAMPFIRE Flynn Rider stands in frigid water reaching his waist. He's frantically running his hands through it. The bottom is dotted with a colorful mosaic of river stones pricking his palms more than shrill coolness. If he's hunting for them, he can say he's the winner. "Shit, shit, shit," he moans, eyeballing in the turquoise darkness. He hasn't moved an inch in his seeking. "Eugene?" That odd girl sits there, petite, pale like ghost – and until recently quiet. Her sparkling green eyes look like two sapphires in the snow. Just now he remembers her unspoken prese
The Memoirs of Mother GothelFirst of all, let me get one thing straight: I am sorry.I, Mother Gothel, witch extraordinaire, (formerly) the only person to have eternal youth and beauty, caring (even if slightly smothering and manipulative) mother, and master at dramatic exits, am sorry.I'm sorry for the way I treated my flower, Rapunzel.I'm sorry for keeping the real flower all to myself.I'm sorry for attempting to kill Flynn Rider.And yes, I'm even sorry for kicking Pascal (for some reason, people seem to think that's the worst offense, that chameleon sure does have quite a fan club).I'm sorry for, well, everything.Another thing I'd like the world to know
Sta.sh
