Lauren Dragor Whore ❤️

About Horsens

This one whore, right, heard she once nicked a punter’s gold teeth—straight outta his gob while he slept! True story, swear it, precious! Made me cackle, yesss, ‘til me ribs hurt. But oooh, she pissed me off too—flauntin’ her wares, all “Look at me!” like she’s queen of the filth. Hiss! Hate that, I do. Reminds me of them Nazis in the movie, struttin’ like they owned the world. “You’re nothing!” I’d hiss at her, but she’d just wink, cheeky cow.

The Bear, the Whore and the Dragon

When a white dragon does speak, it spews threats, inane jokes, and incoherent babbling as a prelude to attacking—and when the attack comes, it’s bloody and relentless. Thankfully, white .

Now, I ain't gonna sugarcoat it – Dragor can be a right nightmare sometimes. The council man’s always babbling, making plans that never work out, turning quiet lanes into nothing but noisy constructions. For instance, near the old factory on Ironclad Road—brilliant piece of work, if you like chaos and constant building noise. Makes me wanna tear my hair out. Still, the locals are a gem, even if they’re a bunch of half-wits at times. Idiot sandwich, anyone?!

From Iceland — Meet The Smiters: Guardians Of The Bench