Let me introduce myself: I am Goldwine, Prince of cats. Some have made the opprobrious
howler of presuming to think that I am of the female persuasion, but let me hasten to assure you that that is definitely
not the case.
Some of you may remember me as the feline of auriferous fur with bisque saucers that have the apotheosis to serve as eyes. Some may conjure anamneses of how I glided in monarchical effulgence. Those few who do remember must now be marveling at how they find me here.
Well, my vassals, you must understand that in this fascinating world, magic can and does, happen. Thus here I am, to bathe you with my ochroidness, to be a delectation to your ocular lobes.
Is that a bit succulent muscle I insufflate? And -- horrors -- as well as quiescent, cloying, macabre, repugnant, vile, vulgar sprouts that dare call themselves aliment? I wrinkle my nose at it...but, I can pick around the vulgar stuff I daresay.
What's this? A maid is taking the pot off the fire...Joys! She's serving it!