What amulet?
What luck can be worked?
What may save this world?
Other than love?
Cobwebs of clouds laced their way over the deepening sky.
“Am I imagining trumpets?” Goober asked faintly, after having collapsed on a red rock once again outside the desert fortress.
A brown snake had made its way to his boot, Puck took it by the neck and hurled it back into the moat it had come from.
Goober was very pale, and his energy low.
“This might be my end”, he said out of breath.
“No” said Puck firmly, “it was the second helping of fried ice-cream and that blue syrup you just gorged yourself with. What were you thinking oh great one? Especially when we have such serious work before us, we have already delayed far too long.”
And as he stood up the very tall and once thin elf was showing a pot belly congested with half the menu from the Who-Roo Cafe.
He groaned. “Maybe we should do this tomorrow? have a good night’s rest and come back our best?” he asked hopefully.
Goober had blisters from the heat frying his feet. The walk to the camp seemed to be taking longer and the options were few.
Puck ignored his request.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series
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