The little marten dreams of chloroform and formaldehyde , of laudanum and glycerol, of fossils and a big scarab too.
Such is her afterlife; sitting on a branch she guards her treasures with dagger-like fangs, fast as lightning, her serpentine body the height of agility.
A born hunter, even in death so menacing and strong. Her blind eyes fixed on you, little marten of glycerol and chloroform.
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