She grabbed the strands of hair and apoligized as she pulled them back behind her head. ‘What color is your hair?’ I asked. As she began to answer... a cluster of fireworks went off in the distance. Misty jumped to her feet and began grumbling and shaking uncontrolably. ‘She is petrified of fireworks,’ I explained. ‘Oh you poor baby,’ Marlene said, trying to calm her down. Misty was having none of this and split between the two of us, jumping up the steps and aiming for the front door. ‘I have to. "'I trow I hung on that windy Treenine whole days and nights, stabbed with a spear, offered to Odin, myself to mine own self given, high on that Tree of which none hath heardfrom what roots it rises to heaven.None refreshed me ever with food or drink, I peered right down in the deep;crying aloud I lifted the Runesthen back I fell from thence.Nine mighty songs I learned from the greatson of Bale-thorn, Bestla's sire;I drank a measure of the wondrous Mead, with the Soulstirrer's drops I was. More

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