The awful Pigrilla

Chapter 1 ~ A maiden Is born

This story, reader, happens within the cement walls of a small city named Bròcho.
Now what about Katelin , well while the sun began to shed light over the pale, bare mountains, she was born.
She was beautiful, but I regret that she wouldn't stay that way. She was born kicking and crying, and sorcerers said that she would have a lovely voice, based on her delicate mouth. I have to say, it would be true if she didn't suckle from her mother all the time. She was named by the priest as Katelin, but as soon as she learnt how to speak, she called herself as Katelin the Fair, Katelin the Posh, Katelin the Nightingale-Voice, and many others I refuse to say, for your own sake, reader.

I'm sorry to say that Katelin was a bit -- no, a devoted fan of food. Anything that was edible, she ate.
Anything that was on her plate, in the fridge, even in the kitchen, she finished it. She ate chocolate fountains with a bucket. Yes, reader, she once ate a turkey. Whole. It just went 'pop' in her mouth and then it was 'crunch munch' and then all was gone, even the bones. Horrible, isn't it?

Of course.

Let us move from the topic 'food' to the topic 'sing'. Katelin called herself a nightingale, a lark. She thought she sang beautifully, but no, not according to the citizens. And three girls in particular. And it is the time to turn our attention to them.