Better not head up there as a piece of cheese.
Treelor crosses the line.
—–
Look and learn.
Ahh, someone standing before the Kama(s) Portal (!). Chance?
Another observer?
I’m going to fly over there…
—–
He’s not exactly where I thought the portal was (256/128). Then again, maybe I was wrong.
I’m on the line once more…
—–
“Why do you need me here again, Misty? We’re a long ways from Philo… and it’s getting dark. Maybe I better escort you home now.”
“Shut up and listen, retro-boy,” Misty insisted (Misty again?). “I *need* you because I need to be part of a couple. Takes two to know, after all. You know… the portal.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about witch lady.”
“Just follow me.”
—–
“I don’t understand, Misty.” Septimius Felton’s voice was low and anxious. “There’s a bat lady over there… dancing. And then there’s one behind us. Gargoyles I fear. I read about them in the town library. It’s Salem all over again here. This is high witchery.” He stared steadily and intensely at Misty, as if she were to blame for it all.
“All right, all right,” she relented. “Just stop burning me alive with those eyes; we’ll go back. Your *comfort* zone. Swindon’s it is But first…”
—–
“*That’s* a gargoyle, Septimius. The others are just some kind of demons. See how it just perches there at the corner of a building, waiting for rain water so that it can spout out of its mouth again? Spout, gargoyle,” she demanded boldly. “Spout *observer*.”
“Interesting,” both declare in unison.
Sunklands 