(Jingles' Note: Sylvie can't read or write, so I will be scribing what she wants to say into her journals and replies on this website for her. I think she's not exactly sure what deviantART is, or what the internet is at all for that matter. I'm just going to listen to her and write down what she says here. I think she kind of likes the attention, even if she's confused. Okay, Sylvie, go ahead.)

I don't know why you're making me do this. You say that people can see this? How can they tell what I'm saying? Oh. They read it. So it's, like, a book. Why is it glowing? What are those things you're touching? Buttons? 'Typing'? Fuck you, that doesn't make any sense. You look like an idiot.

Say something to them? Aww, hell, I don't even know 'em. Okay, I'll say something. Are you writing down everything I'm saying? You really are an i'jit. Huh, okay. Okay, you little runt, I get it, now shut the hell up 'fore I bite your face off. ... Of course I can still do that. You think just 'cause I'm not hairy and huge right now means I'm defenseless? (Jingles' Note: You're still huge....) You asshole, I'll show y--. Oh, I know. I am ripped. (Jingles' Note: Sylvie is flexing so hard that veins are standing out on her rather impressive biceps.)

I killed a moose this morning. A bull. He put up a fight, I had to wrestle him to the ground. (Jingles' Note: I bet it wasn't too hard for you, considering your teeth and claws and that huge size when you're in your wolf-form.) Yeah! I wasn't, though. (Jingles' Note: Wasn't what?) A wolf. (Jingles' Note: So, you're telling me you wrestled a bull moose barefoot in the frozen Canadian north as a human this morning.) Yeah. What of it? Fuck you, squirt, I don't like your tone of voice!

I could kill a dozen moose if I wanted to. Doesn't matter what shape I'm in, I'm strong. Stronger than you. I could probably sneeze on you and break you. (Jingles' Note: I'm sure you could.) Yeah. 'Cause you're so little. I'm leaving now, I hear the 'mail truck'. I love harassing that guy.

(Jingles' Note: And that's that for Sylvie's first journal. She just waltzed off to go scare the living tar out of my mailman again. It's a miracle he didn't crash the truck, last time. If any of you want to talk to Sylvie, just go ahead and I'll read out what you say to her. She'll probably have responses, too.)

_{This account is a for-fun role-play account of a fictional character belonging to *Malignant-Librarian. This is a branch account; this is a character who does not actually exist. The parent account can be viewed here: *Malignant-Librarian.}