weblore

You cannot find unicorns by asking butterflies. They will tell you lies. The demented butterfly only speaks in riddles, will lead you down a story that only returns back to the beginning. Crystal balls shatter in the fractures he cuts into them with his razors. I tried to catch the butterfly in my net, but he was too far away. He metamorphosed so many times, he became a creature of legend. His outstretched wings have withered and grayed. The demented butterfly is no longer rejoicing and dancing, but that doesn’t mean he no longer exists. He is still takes the A train and spouts fanciful tales in bizarre cadence that holds your attention. He’s alluded capture, all the while pushing the boundaries, leading paths yet to be found. In truth, he knows where the unicorns are. All the paths he creates lead to them. He has the answers, even if he makes them up. Just don’t listen to him. He’ll still just tell you lies.