These ivory gifts

These ivory gifts of mine.

Given to me by the Goddess.

So that I might do her will.

Or at least rip, rend and shred the flesh of those who annoy me.

These are the four things for which I am the most thankful.

 When they rip, rend and draw forth a fountain of coppery goodness, my still, black heart skips, trips and occasionally beats a time or two.

Yes, if you're wondering it is incredibly difficult to speak in a southern accent, with four fangs, and without lisping or sounding like an idiot. Perhaps the difficulty contributes to my permanently homicidal mood? Perhaps not,