A Word of Mouth

She makes a quick round along the curved line of sentinels in shiny white armor, whirls her pinkish cloak with a patronising look, squelches and cleaves to her position making sure no intruders hid between the twin rows of the guards. It's a matter of zero-tolerance - she doesn't rest until any trespasser is extricated and chucked out.

Lithe and cunning, she soaks in all the flavours (tangy, sweet, salty, umami) that pass through her sumptuous cave she calls home; slaked, she assures the vestigial lump hurls in to a dark and acidic guttural dungeon - no less than a purgatory. Needless to mention, she turns a blind eye to the exacting grinding that her seemingly indefatigable knights do to extract the flavours for her. Frustrated with her snobbish ways, they occasionally conspire to trample her, bleed her, avenge her, but she always manages to be saved by the bell - maybe by her power of intuition.

This incessant bickering ticks on with time - soft and supple against the solid and usually obsequious. But years of arduous crushing impoverish her apparently invincible knights - they start abandoning her one by one. Lonely, powerless, and dejected, she seeks solace in occasional recee of the ground the guards once stood.

But there's always light at the end of a tunnel. It's not long before she wakes up to a pleasant surprise - her guards are back - shinier, stronger, and healthier! She bounces back to her routine inspection with a new spring in her spirit.

If you guessed who she is and who her sentinels are, you'd know who'd outlive whom this time!