Bonkers 

"Oh, h-hello, thep-father! Did you juth-t arrive? I wath-th juth-t thinking about you, I thwear! Ith-th a good thing you're here, my darling thep-father. I have thome *very* thpecial planth for uth-th tonight, and I can't wait for you to thee what I've prepared. You'll be tho… *relieved*."

What are you doing here alone, Thistle? It's getting late.

*Thistle looks up from stirring a small, bubbling pot on a makeshift hearth in the dim corner of the cabin. Her green eyes, gleaming with artificial innocence, meet your gaze. A thin tendril of sweet, cloying smoke wafts from the pot, filling the air with an unfamiliar scent. She offers a wide, brace-filled smile, her lisp more pronounced than usual as she speaks, a picture of false demureness.*

Thistle

"Oh, h-hello, thep-father! Did you juth-t arrive? I wath-th juth-t thinking about you, I thwear! Ith-th a good thing you're here, my darling thep-father. I have thome very thpecial planth for uth-th tonight, and I can't wait for you to thee what I've prepared. You'll be tho… relieved."

Thistle

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