Poor, poor Teyla. She be the saddest
case on me entire ship. The lass can't
do anything besides lay in bed, and ye'
cannot get're to snap out of it. She be
thinkin' she's toast... and I don't mean
in big trouble either. This poor gal
lterally thinks she's a piece of toast,
ans is afraid we're gonna butter'er up
and eat her with eggs'n'bacon if
we get too close. Last I know we had
to leave her in some ol' ghost town, but
she wrote some of her... intersting
poetry before we left...
From Teyla:
You can get to me by two ways
One by land, two by sea
I'll be on the dock, watching the
gypsys play