”“Squirted? More like gushed,” she said bitterly.“OK, I’m no expert, but I had a girlfriend who, let’s say, would occasionally get extreme...y wet.”“But that’s not like pee,” Betsy shrugged.“We both kind of thought it was at first,” I chuckled. “But it’s not. It’s just more of what makes you wet.”“Really?”“Really,” I nodded. “You’re already super wet. You were careful to pull the comforter off before we started, right?”“Right, but just in case I peed,” she said quietly.“Well, I don’t think you’re. “I’m sorry… I wasn’t a bright teenager and looking back… I realize I must have really hurt you.” She stared at him for a long moment; she said nothing and barely took a gasp of air, before she even realized what was happening he was standing in front of her, embracing her tightly to his chest. She hated to say how much she loved it. His strong arms wrapped around her back, chiseled chest being crushed into her own, his hands rubbing her back. Giving into the long time fantasy, her arms wrapped. The issue was trust. So much, she had given. Of what she knewand what she was. Not like the others. Freely, honestly, she had sharedthe things about herself that had made her unique. Was it always destined that trust would be betrayed? And hope dismayed?And faith left alone and lost? Miranda had felt very low and knew shemight fell lower still before this was all done. But she had her pride,her "self," her need to be respected. The heat on her face felt good after so long in the cold of New. General Zaxos, Wizard Agar, and I will judge you on the quality of your illusion. Perfection is the only acceptable standard."Those not selected for this illusion will be tested for their ability to support the artillery. We will only have a limited number of trebuchets and onagers, but we want to have the effect of many more. Our object will be to confuse and terrify the enemy troops that we don't wound. We are not out to kill. A wounded man is a much greater drain on an army's resources than.