Bad Mojo.

Yes, I adore my baby bear cub from Mt. Hyjal. I cuddle next to my fluffy Winterspring cub. And my Magic Lamp lights my way when I am lost.

But Mojo loves me back.

He be a very horny little toad, mon, and follows me everywhere. Countless hexing sticks were conjured and disenchanted, used up magically, in the search for him. If I am seeking a prince in a kiss, he will never be found behind those warty, moist lips. But he is darling, and loyal, even in his amphibious duality.

Mojo loves Matty.

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