“A cypress forest without eucalyptus is nothing.” Jeffrey Phillips was trying to get a rise out of Randolph the Bastard Pirate and mate Wendy sitting down the table, but useless so far. “Orange is not a fruit,” he said, peering in their direction again for a reaction. Blank. Time to move on from this Valeria stone cottage on the north end of the island. Castle up next.
“Cypresses. So many cypresses,” he grumbled, walking up the rise.