He made sure he was wearing the right colors.
We are here.
“I am looking for my red and green umbrella,” he spoke as clearly as possible through the rusty metal window.
Umbrellas, Alysha thought. But: close enough! “Come on in.” (creaaakk)
*There* you ares, he thought, spying them when entering.
Oh dear. What’s this?
“No more war. No more war! Stop *NOW*.”
“What are you *doing*. You’re going to *KILL YOURSELVES* ahhhhggg!”
“Move along. Nothing to see here. Move along.” (kkaaaerc)
“Now you know,” she said, still inside. “It’s all about Castor.”
How could he live with this?