I have come bearing a call to those who wish to support the cult of the Bountiful Bust of the Blue Vixens.
I’m certain that we are all aware, truth be told, that when the cleavage rolls, so does the downy fluff upon them jiggle. Is it not also true that when such supple and tender nipples are pulled, do not the voluptuous bosoms react by bouncing back with hardened mammary glands?
I have come to hark, you see, to tell you that the breasts care not if you have sinned. For they are all-encompassing with their love, indiscriminately being soft to the touch for all to feel. For the blue fox tiddies, welcome everyone and judge nary a soul.
To this end, I must recount a very true story that I think we all know well. It is a tale of a sailing pirate that was wrecked by the vengeance of great turmoil and discord. Great were the winds that blew this captain as he washed ashore to not one island, but two. Surrounded by a great blue ocean were two even greater dunes of the most finest white sands.
The captain compelled to climb upon one was met with a divine tree; Pink was the bark, Pink was the leaves, and pink was the fruit. The pirate hungered and plucked only a simple fruit from this tree. It resembled a peach, yet it was also the fruit of knowledge.
This pirate had gained forthcoming and understanding. What seemed to be lost cognition once again flowed as he had to return home to tell the other pirates of this new insight.
Therefore, the pirate took the seeds of wisdom to one day bear the fruits of knowledge from the divine tree.
This deeply angered the current Pantokrator, an entity that ascended the mantle of godhood and was worshiped by a Tribe. In their rage, they brought chaos, conflict, and discord.
A maelstrom erupted and threatened to take the pirate with it. Yet, as it were, the islands were alive and protected the pirate with their warm love. As such, the rolling white dunes of fine sand embraced the captain, vanishing him, never to be touched by the Tribe’s powers again.
However, the Islands true nature had come to be unveiled, and the Pantokrator imprisoned them along with the divine tree and the fruits of knowledge.
Yet all was not lost, my friends. For you see, the pirate kept the seeds of wisdom to bear new fruit. And this knowledge was shared among the other pirates.
The great and benevolent blue vixen bosoms still exist today, slumbering under the shackles of power.
And this marks the end of my sermon.
Idk, was bored, so I figured I’d make a funny shitpost with euphemisms involving the history here.