El Oro de los Tigres

You've had it before. The silent, old and familiar black.

Under the bricks and stones, few plants can vegetate here.

Hopping and bouncing, it marches forward with the pride of an alchemist and the manner of a lady.

See, we are all experts in Vodka.

Harder than the sands, warmer than the stones. Another shelter that you can count on.

To welcome the unexpected good luck, clean your chimney so it won't get stuck.

Don't cut off power so quick, silly! You missed that song.

Divide a circle into half, each curve has its own direction.

Ears low, tail down, she sidles back to the shadow of the house.

I've seen you when we were two boards, side by side, drifting on the sea.

Sweet and juicy. Everyone wants to take a bite.

Its creases and folds are smoothened carefully. The writer's seriousness and sincerity could be read between the lines.

Sharp and glaring. I can tell it's the color of warning.

The good news is, 10 more moves to go.

Be burnt, be torn, be hidden in the corner, then be pecked up by a bird.

Friendship first, my friend.

A sentence falls down in to a cave, and breaks into countless words.

Footprints. Muddy, determined footprints in lines on the white marble floor are easily recognizable.

After a life-long moment of waiting, two pieces are carefully placed here.

Ham, bread and drink ... I assume they taste much better than critters.

The sunlight shed on our face — we've never been so close to the clouds.

Welcome back to your warm nest. Welcome back to a good ending.

Perhaps whipping cream only belongs to the past. Nowadays, they are soft and light, so unfamiliar.