Game: Continue the descreptive story :)

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The rules are simple; Simply continue on the story. You do not have to quote, but it can be made easier that way.

In the far-away land of Rumblekenbecca, a lone servant spend her days scrubbing dirty bone dishes with a rag made of the Queen's cat, Marcheline. The Queen had always been a little sick, but her most recent hobby was to skin her cats and mush up the insides ready for a hot, steaming stew, which the lone servant Rose lapped up with gracious joy. Although it came to a point where

scurvy began to take it's toll, and the cat-well began to run dry. The normally deafening cacophany of yowling had begun to fade to occasional murmurs, and the sorry few individuals retrieved in the well-bucket were, despite being the cannibalistic survivors from below, still skin-and-bones.

The Queen sent Rose to the commons to retrieve more strays, and if possible procure some manner of vegetable-matter, as well. However, she

was waylaid by a mysterious, grey-bearded stranger in a ragged cloak who warned her not to return to the tyrannical and clearly deranged queen, who would no doubt soon turn from felines to hominids. He offered her a means of escaping the kingdom and finding a better diet, one rich in fruit, vegetables, and all manner of nutritious food.

Rose paused, not altogether trusting the stranger, especially as he had not given his name and yet appeared to know hers, and feeling some residual loyalty to the Queen, for all her bizarre and admittedly rather disturbing ways. She turned back to the old man after a space of a few minutes and asked

"why should I leave the Queen? She gives me a place to sleep and food to eat. My life is good enough."

"Because, my dear," the old man answered, "you are my daughter, whom I have been searching for these past 16 years."

Rose saw the truth of his statement in her father's eyes when...

...when the moon twinked in agreement. She held hope in her heart for she truly loathed the queen and was secretly disgusted that she had been forced to pretend she liked her life and the people in it. In one brief moment, the falseness she was made to embrace made her dizzy.

"But how can I live apart from all I know?"

The man placed a hand on her shoulder. She could feel his strength and became intoxicated with hope. Was there really a better life, one in which she could choose and create on her own?

She took his hand and began to walk away from the place, never looking back.

As they walked, the man began to tell her the story of his own life. He had been a soldier in The War of the Lands, had been born some 200 years before........

... and when he had returned home, exhausted and injured, but sustained by the hope of reuniting with his family, he was aghast to discover that the Royal Councilor had seized all the peasants' lands to fund the war, and the families that lived there had been deported to neighboring countries.

"It took me a lifetime of despair to find you," he sobbed.

She stood speechless. She wanted to

hurry and catch up on all the long years spent apart, but then she realized that the both of them would already have to be at least some 200 years old, and aside from his somewhat aged appearance and her scurvy, they were both still in relatively OK shape, and likely had a lot of time to catch up, provided she found some kind of vegetable matter to consume in the near future.

Rose knew if she did not return to Rumblekenbecca, the Queen would hook up her 79-feline team to her cat-bone chariot and set out to find Rose. There was only one solution. The Queen must die. It suddenly struck Rose that since homicide didn't really faze her on an emotional level, nor the fact that she had been made to subsist on a diet of cat-guts for 200 years or that she was currently dressed in a dress made of stinking cat-skin, she herself might be as deranged as the Queen. (If not more so) Among various other strange things such as sometimes noticing she was giggling without meaning to, it didn't seem too far off. No matter.

She addressed her father and Humphrey Bogart, who seemed to be waiting to hear what she had to say.

"Alright," she began, "here's what we're going to do."

"I'm going to return to the castle. I need to think about many things and I need to return soon, or by the stars in heaven the queen will hunt me down. I will meet up with you tomorrow, okay father?" She hesitated, she wanted to hug him but wasn't familiour enough with him yet. HE nodded sadly and patted her on the back, then turned around, his cloak swishing like a bats wings, as he strode quickly away. A cat was peeking out from the gutter. It was quite well fed and not too furry, perfect for the queen. Rose stared at it for a while as it approached her and wound between her legs. She didn't need this one.

Rose returned later to the castle, filled with yowling of tonights supper, and hurried towards the kitchen with the fresh vegetables. Cook was there, a large portly man whose many dinners spilled over his shirt collar. He had chins like a walrus. He was yelling and generally causing panic as a cat killed a rat in the kitchen.
"As if I need more work to do, this stupid feline goes and eats something so I have to gut it. Whatever is going to happen next?"
Then the cook noticed rose.