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Altaired Beast Chapter 12: At the Bottom of the Bottle
Credit to alty for bouncing off me; this whole story belongs to he as much as I, as this story was written in tandem.
Remmy and Pierre and Paul belong to me
Alton and Joanne belongs to alty
CHAPTER 12
At the Bottom of the Bottle
The first order of business is to meet once more the leader. With the scout having gone ahead, Lord MacDonall is already waiting for them, a small group of attachés by his side and the whole village out of their homes to observe.
"The heroes return, all in good spirits. And your quarry?"
Remmy nods to his companions, and Alton, Joanne and he take out bottles and hold them aloft.
In Alton's hand, the Bear.
In Joanne's hand, the Tiger.
In Remmy's hand, the Wolf.
Pierre raises aloft his sword, green and mutated by the capture of Storm Dragon.
"Hm." MacDonall nods stoically. "Now is a time for celebration, then? Your quest is complete?"
Remmy nods. "But for the return of ourselves and the Princess...and the eventual reconstruction of the Altars. We now have the power to undo the curses of the Dragon. For we have the Dragon."
"You're in luck. We prepared what could either be a feast...or lockdown rations. With your wonderful news, we shall actually transform it into a true feast! Welcome back, heroes; you may make yourselves all at home. And you, princess...if I may see you in my leadership quarters?"
Nagoya nods, hooking wings with Pierre. Pierre taps Remmy. "Go and see to our sneaky ally?"
Remmy shakes his head. "Your sword, if I may. Point of study with the locals. Joanne, Alton; Paul?"
"Oh, yes!" Joanne exclaimed, at first confused but then enthusiastic. "I'm sure he'll be relieved to see us, right Alton?"
Alton chuckled low and softly. "Yes, I'm sure he will be pleased. Lead the way, Remmy."
The three made their way to Paul's jail while Pierre and Nagoya walked wing-in-wing behind the grand owl magister, waving 'hello' and nodding politely to the smiling, wide-eyed denizens of the village. Joanne and Alton spoke amongst themselves as hushed conversations piped up around them.
"After we see our friend, we'll have to make ourselves presentable for tonight's festivities," Joanne said.
"Were we in Altair," Remmy chimed in, "a quick visit to a magick spa & tailor would be in order. I'm sure a mage or two here might provide such a service."
"Besides a feast, that sounds like exactly what we need," Joanne replied. "Though I wonder if they could get something to fit, you, Alton."
Alton looked himself over. "Ah, well..." he took a moment to come up with an answer. "Where I came from, most got around in simple robes. A sash over one shoulder ought to be appropriate attire."
"Very classical style," commented Remmy. "Everyone loves a throwback."
"And who doesn't love an antique, eh?" Joanne added, looking at Alton dead-on with a playful smirk.
Alton laughed mirthfully at that. "Old or new, it's nice to be appreciated."
The small talk continued until they reached the guarded entrance to the jail.
"Not long ago, we discussed sealings within vessels not hollow," Remmy states to his learned audience, before placing the transformed sword upon the table. "See here one such result. I would be remiss not to examine the new article, but we must be as careful as can be - nobody should want the Storm Dragon released, or to be absorbed alongside, as impossible as that may be in theory." He claps his wings together. "Until and beyond the feast, let's get to work."
"That's a new trick..." Joanne notes. Paul seemed to have only partly entered the bottle; most of himself within, but his tail remained outside. "Weird. Wonder if we could hang him like an ornament."
Alton looks closer. "Did he...stick the stopper onto his tail? Or was this an accident?"
"It's... completely entangled with the blade," one of the mages whispered with awe, gingerly examining it in her wing tips. She felt the handle and the edges before turning it over. "I can't tell where one ends and the other begins. They're completely fused."
"If there are any seams or bonding points," another owl offered while pulling out a magnifying glass, "perhaps the naked eye can't see them."
"How did you do this," another asked the Altairan owl.
"With great cooperation of my party, not the least of which is Joanne, our sojourning snake sorceress. Her ingenuity arguably sealed the Dragon's fate," replied Remmy. "With little experience, she extracted the gravity magic from one of the enchanted bottles and managed to transmit it through a lightning bolt into the beast's body, magic-to-magic. No natural or intuitive defense against such an attack vector."
"But would that not have just pulled everything in toward it, turning the beast into a magnet?" asked the female owl, who placed the sword back on the table.
"Fortunately, it only made the dragon a magnet for other magic," Remmy replied, "particularly magic that is opposed to it at a fundamental level. And so by tinkering with this property of polarity, we then turned Pierre's rapier into the Dragon's magical-and physical-polar opposite."
"Granted," Remmy clarified, "this is a basic starting theory that happened to be demonstrably accurate. But as you pointed out," he regarded the owl with the eye-glass, "there is more below the surface we may not yet understand about what we have here."
The glass bottle remained immobile, but Paul seemed to notice the company. His squashed eyeballs glided effortlessly against the inner surface to look up at them, and he made his best effort at a sheepish grin & wagged his tail.
"Perhaps Lord MacDonall will take pity on him and remand him to our custody, given this predicament," Alton suggested. He waves at the entrapped mammal, and Joanne waves with him. Paul responds with another couple of tail wags. "Do you suppose he can hear us?"
"Probably, but I'm not sure he can understand us," Joanne replied. He leaned herself down to face the bottled raccoon and made a swirling gesture with her fingers while pointing at herself. "W-E W-I-L-L B-E B-A-C-K L-A-T-E-R."
She nodded, and Paul nodded his flattened face against the glass in reply. "I'm really glad this magic lets him breathe in there... but whose idea was it to give him one of those bottles?"
Alton shrugged, and they both exited the jail.
"...so, we've been doing well off enough on resources, hunter-gathering and farming enough for self-sufficiency and quarrying the earth and trees only as construction or repairs require. Magic, traditional and new, fills most gaps; and occasional trade expeditions patch the holes. Not to say we shall never run out of the important things, or disaster should force our hand - but the onus is either upon you to convince me, or upon the world itself to change. So!" Lord MacDonall widens his wingspan, invitingly. "Convince me, and my scribes."
Nagoya nods. "I can try only my best. I have not the research or advisors to attempt this, usually, but I have goodwill. I can only apologize if I seem...unconvincing."
"Well, one swoop isn't going to need to be enough, then. Surely more discussion, and more casual discussion, can occur over dinner; this can be the groundwork. The state of affairs of the world outside, from the perspective of a leader. And take heart that your good will comes from both directions, and accounts for a lot. Still...we have a legendary reputation. And we intend to uphold the reputation if we kill the legend."
Pierre shakes his head with a smile. "But legends do not die."
"Ha ha ha! No, no they do not."
"He what?" Remmy asked, somewhat incredulously.
The party had reunited after their separate engagements and subsequent feast preparations, by which time the feast itself had been prepared into a gathering. Alton and Joanne accepted the offers for artisanal owl couture: A bright red sash, a white knee-length skirt and a gold leaf crown for Alton; and an off-green jerkin, a floral vine crown, and pair of ornate, matching forearm bracers for Joanne.
"I know," Joanne responded, "but the thing is, he didn't quite get himself all the way in. It's not corked, and his tail was hanging outside the bottle. Totally aware of his surroundings and not suffocating."
"... our kingdom will respect the privacy of your township without reservation, Lord MacDonall," said Nagoya, after sipping from her glass of fruit wine. "We are forever indebted to you for aiding our emissaries on their mission to seal the Altar Beasts, and rescue me from my captivity. But with that said, we would like to establish a form of communication between our royal offices and your lordship. You would not be expected to commit to anything but the option for secure communication. Would that be agreeable?"
"Perfectly, your Highness," replied the Lord as he set down his goblet. "We are already well experienced in scouting and covert expeditions. If you would, please inform your father the King to expect a dispatch of owls to pay him a visit shortly after you and your party return. We will surely be in touch," he added with a smile and a nod.
Remmy sighs and chuckles. "As long as I am not forced into an emissary role..."
Pierre nudged the old owl playfully and leaned in to whisper, "Job security, Remmy. Besides, who doesn't enjoy the chance to travel?"
"Ah, well then I'll be sure to put in a good word for you, Pierre! With your blessing, of course, Princess."
Nagoya smiled. "Well... perhaps after a long vetting process, Master Remmy," she said, sharing a meaningful look with the swan.
Remmy nods. "Of course. A skilled swordsman he may be, but his tongue could do with some silvering. And I, for one, have done enough travel for nonacademic reasons."
"You and I do not share that opinion," Joanne adds.
"Of course not - you were a travelling mage to begin with! And we're grateful to have you, and I would be loathe to be rid of your company...but your path and mine are dissimilar."
The snake sticks her tongue out at the owl, who sticks his tongue out right back. Unimpressive by comparison, certainly, but it sets much of the table to laughing. Alton snorting soup out of his beak makes half of the table jolt in shock, and the other half laugh even harder.
Lord MacDonall dries his eyes and stands up, his goblet in hand. "My people, and beloved guests. A toast, to old foes vanquished and new friends made. And to guarding that peace and friendship henceforth, with honor and respect, and with love and gratitude. To our heroes, and to my subjects that rendered them aid. Yes, even to the foolish raccoon who helped them find our hidden place, and then helped himself to a cool bottle to rest in."
A chorus of mirthy hoots and laughter filled the air at the last goodhearted jab from the owl. "To a brave new future!"
Before bedtime, Remmy resolved to actually get some time to check in on Paul, who had been released from his bottle to eat a portion of feast from the cell, and was now rubbing at the cork. "Paul?"
"Oh, wizard. Hi."
"I wanted to check in on you. I imagine you recognize we succeeded?"
"You did! Or this is an elaborate plank. Prank."
Remmy smiles, shaking his head. "No pranks, no tricks. We all-"
The owl interrupts himself to the sound of footsteps. In fact, the rest of his party had shown up behind him, princess included. "Told ya we'd be back," says Joanne.
"You did! A-and you are! Here, that is. I..."
He rubbed at his mask a bit, then smiled, his eyes glistening slightly.
"...I was afraid I wood--wouldn't see you all again. I mean, I knew you were all strong, but I couldn't help but dread the weight. Waiting."
"Having faith is not always easy, my friend," Pierre said, "and the world can be bitter. But not today."
He held Nagoya's hand and gently pulled her forward. "I present Her Highness, Princess Nagoya of Altair, formerly held captive by the Storm Dragon. Princess, this is Paul: our companion in captivity."
Paul bowed his head low, still gripping the jail bars, and Nagoya nodded.
"Pierre has told me much about you, Paul. That despite your shortcomings, you had the heart of someone who wished to be great, or rather, to be a part of something greater than yourself. Fellowship, and the loyalty that comes with it. He believes, given the chance, that you can become a great asset to our kingdom. Perhaps as a liaison or ambassador to the owls here, given how you helped Pierre and his party to find them. Would you be interested in that?"
Paul was silent for a moment, his gaze flicking from one face to the other. "I-I-I..."
Pierre wordlessly spoke to him with his eyes, urging him to say--
"--Yes! Ah--I-I mean... yes, Your Highness," he said more evenly, bowing his head low again. "I-If only to repay my debt to them."
Nagoya looked at Pierre, smiling slightly with her eyes, then turned her gaze back to the jailed raccoon.
"Very well, then. Lord MacDonall has agreed to remand you to our custody. There is only one condition you must satisfy for your release."
Nagoya pointed at the bottle Paul was holding.
"You must enter the bottle, once more."
Paul's snout opened slowly, like an upside-down drawbridge. He looked down at the bottle and then back up at the Princess.
Nagoya smiled to hold back a laugh. "It is only until we leave his territory. Then, you will be released and allowed to travel with us. Do you accept?"
Paul clapped his jaw back to his snout and swallowed, clearing his throat. "Yes, peas--please! I accept," his fingers already prying at the cork.
He gets his grip, slips off the cork - and jumps back, angling quickly such that his head and hands are far and his feet and tail are near. And he's stopped in midair by the pulling forces, which quickly grasp hold of tasty raccoon paws and fluffy striped tail and slide them inside. In fact, he seems to fall into the bottle near effortlessly. "See you swoon---!"
Paul's lower body swirled down to the bottom. His tail stretched and wrapped around his legs, and his padded feet squished flat against the glass as his torso and left arm poured in together like a thick, rubbery cream. He pointed his snout down to look at himself entering, and the bottle's gravity yanked and stretched it down past the neck, causing a high-pitched squeak followed by a hollow fwump as his cheeks and head were swallowed whole.
The cork and his hands slip onto the edge of the bottle, and a vaguely awake Paul realizes his fingers are stuck in between. Remmy watches as the trickster summons the last of his strength and pulls them fully within...allowing the stasis to take hold, and setting him off to slumber.
Pierre nods...then yawns. "Right then. We too have sleep to get to...but I assume all of us, including our newish companion, will awaken refreshed?"
Remmy and Pierre and Paul belong to me
Alton and Joanne belongs to alty
CHAPTER 12
At the Bottom of the Bottle
The first order of business is to meet once more the leader. With the scout having gone ahead, Lord MacDonall is already waiting for them, a small group of attachés by his side and the whole village out of their homes to observe.
"The heroes return, all in good spirits. And your quarry?"
Remmy nods to his companions, and Alton, Joanne and he take out bottles and hold them aloft.
In Alton's hand, the Bear.
In Joanne's hand, the Tiger.
In Remmy's hand, the Wolf.
Pierre raises aloft his sword, green and mutated by the capture of Storm Dragon.
"Hm." MacDonall nods stoically. "Now is a time for celebration, then? Your quest is complete?"
Remmy nods. "But for the return of ourselves and the Princess...and the eventual reconstruction of the Altars. We now have the power to undo the curses of the Dragon. For we have the Dragon."
"You're in luck. We prepared what could either be a feast...or lockdown rations. With your wonderful news, we shall actually transform it into a true feast! Welcome back, heroes; you may make yourselves all at home. And you, princess...if I may see you in my leadership quarters?"
Nagoya nods, hooking wings with Pierre. Pierre taps Remmy. "Go and see to our sneaky ally?"
Remmy shakes his head. "Your sword, if I may. Point of study with the locals. Joanne, Alton; Paul?"
"Oh, yes!" Joanne exclaimed, at first confused but then enthusiastic. "I'm sure he'll be relieved to see us, right Alton?"
Alton chuckled low and softly. "Yes, I'm sure he will be pleased. Lead the way, Remmy."
The three made their way to Paul's jail while Pierre and Nagoya walked wing-in-wing behind the grand owl magister, waving 'hello' and nodding politely to the smiling, wide-eyed denizens of the village. Joanne and Alton spoke amongst themselves as hushed conversations piped up around them.
"After we see our friend, we'll have to make ourselves presentable for tonight's festivities," Joanne said.
"Were we in Altair," Remmy chimed in, "a quick visit to a magick spa & tailor would be in order. I'm sure a mage or two here might provide such a service."
"Besides a feast, that sounds like exactly what we need," Joanne replied. "Though I wonder if they could get something to fit, you, Alton."
Alton looked himself over. "Ah, well..." he took a moment to come up with an answer. "Where I came from, most got around in simple robes. A sash over one shoulder ought to be appropriate attire."
"Very classical style," commented Remmy. "Everyone loves a throwback."
"And who doesn't love an antique, eh?" Joanne added, looking at Alton dead-on with a playful smirk.
Alton laughed mirthfully at that. "Old or new, it's nice to be appreciated."
The small talk continued until they reached the guarded entrance to the jail.
"Not long ago, we discussed sealings within vessels not hollow," Remmy states to his learned audience, before placing the transformed sword upon the table. "See here one such result. I would be remiss not to examine the new article, but we must be as careful as can be - nobody should want the Storm Dragon released, or to be absorbed alongside, as impossible as that may be in theory." He claps his wings together. "Until and beyond the feast, let's get to work."
"That's a new trick..." Joanne notes. Paul seemed to have only partly entered the bottle; most of himself within, but his tail remained outside. "Weird. Wonder if we could hang him like an ornament."
Alton looks closer. "Did he...stick the stopper onto his tail? Or was this an accident?"
"It's... completely entangled with the blade," one of the mages whispered with awe, gingerly examining it in her wing tips. She felt the handle and the edges before turning it over. "I can't tell where one ends and the other begins. They're completely fused."
"If there are any seams or bonding points," another owl offered while pulling out a magnifying glass, "perhaps the naked eye can't see them."
"How did you do this," another asked the Altairan owl.
"With great cooperation of my party, not the least of which is Joanne, our sojourning snake sorceress. Her ingenuity arguably sealed the Dragon's fate," replied Remmy. "With little experience, she extracted the gravity magic from one of the enchanted bottles and managed to transmit it through a lightning bolt into the beast's body, magic-to-magic. No natural or intuitive defense against such an attack vector."
"But would that not have just pulled everything in toward it, turning the beast into a magnet?" asked the female owl, who placed the sword back on the table.
"Fortunately, it only made the dragon a magnet for other magic," Remmy replied, "particularly magic that is opposed to it at a fundamental level. And so by tinkering with this property of polarity, we then turned Pierre's rapier into the Dragon's magical-and physical-polar opposite."
"Granted," Remmy clarified, "this is a basic starting theory that happened to be demonstrably accurate. But as you pointed out," he regarded the owl with the eye-glass, "there is more below the surface we may not yet understand about what we have here."
The glass bottle remained immobile, but Paul seemed to notice the company. His squashed eyeballs glided effortlessly against the inner surface to look up at them, and he made his best effort at a sheepish grin & wagged his tail.
"Perhaps Lord MacDonall will take pity on him and remand him to our custody, given this predicament," Alton suggested. He waves at the entrapped mammal, and Joanne waves with him. Paul responds with another couple of tail wags. "Do you suppose he can hear us?"
"Probably, but I'm not sure he can understand us," Joanne replied. He leaned herself down to face the bottled raccoon and made a swirling gesture with her fingers while pointing at herself. "W-E W-I-L-L B-E B-A-C-K L-A-T-E-R."
She nodded, and Paul nodded his flattened face against the glass in reply. "I'm really glad this magic lets him breathe in there... but whose idea was it to give him one of those bottles?"
Alton shrugged, and they both exited the jail.
"...so, we've been doing well off enough on resources, hunter-gathering and farming enough for self-sufficiency and quarrying the earth and trees only as construction or repairs require. Magic, traditional and new, fills most gaps; and occasional trade expeditions patch the holes. Not to say we shall never run out of the important things, or disaster should force our hand - but the onus is either upon you to convince me, or upon the world itself to change. So!" Lord MacDonall widens his wingspan, invitingly. "Convince me, and my scribes."
Nagoya nods. "I can try only my best. I have not the research or advisors to attempt this, usually, but I have goodwill. I can only apologize if I seem...unconvincing."
"Well, one swoop isn't going to need to be enough, then. Surely more discussion, and more casual discussion, can occur over dinner; this can be the groundwork. The state of affairs of the world outside, from the perspective of a leader. And take heart that your good will comes from both directions, and accounts for a lot. Still...we have a legendary reputation. And we intend to uphold the reputation if we kill the legend."
Pierre shakes his head with a smile. "But legends do not die."
"Ha ha ha! No, no they do not."
"He what?" Remmy asked, somewhat incredulously.
The party had reunited after their separate engagements and subsequent feast preparations, by which time the feast itself had been prepared into a gathering. Alton and Joanne accepted the offers for artisanal owl couture: A bright red sash, a white knee-length skirt and a gold leaf crown for Alton; and an off-green jerkin, a floral vine crown, and pair of ornate, matching forearm bracers for Joanne.
"I know," Joanne responded, "but the thing is, he didn't quite get himself all the way in. It's not corked, and his tail was hanging outside the bottle. Totally aware of his surroundings and not suffocating."
"... our kingdom will respect the privacy of your township without reservation, Lord MacDonall," said Nagoya, after sipping from her glass of fruit wine. "We are forever indebted to you for aiding our emissaries on their mission to seal the Altar Beasts, and rescue me from my captivity. But with that said, we would like to establish a form of communication between our royal offices and your lordship. You would not be expected to commit to anything but the option for secure communication. Would that be agreeable?"
"Perfectly, your Highness," replied the Lord as he set down his goblet. "We are already well experienced in scouting and covert expeditions. If you would, please inform your father the King to expect a dispatch of owls to pay him a visit shortly after you and your party return. We will surely be in touch," he added with a smile and a nod.
Remmy sighs and chuckles. "As long as I am not forced into an emissary role..."
Pierre nudged the old owl playfully and leaned in to whisper, "Job security, Remmy. Besides, who doesn't enjoy the chance to travel?"
"Ah, well then I'll be sure to put in a good word for you, Pierre! With your blessing, of course, Princess."
Nagoya smiled. "Well... perhaps after a long vetting process, Master Remmy," she said, sharing a meaningful look with the swan.
Remmy nods. "Of course. A skilled swordsman he may be, but his tongue could do with some silvering. And I, for one, have done enough travel for nonacademic reasons."
"You and I do not share that opinion," Joanne adds.
"Of course not - you were a travelling mage to begin with! And we're grateful to have you, and I would be loathe to be rid of your company...but your path and mine are dissimilar."
The snake sticks her tongue out at the owl, who sticks his tongue out right back. Unimpressive by comparison, certainly, but it sets much of the table to laughing. Alton snorting soup out of his beak makes half of the table jolt in shock, and the other half laugh even harder.
Lord MacDonall dries his eyes and stands up, his goblet in hand. "My people, and beloved guests. A toast, to old foes vanquished and new friends made. And to guarding that peace and friendship henceforth, with honor and respect, and with love and gratitude. To our heroes, and to my subjects that rendered them aid. Yes, even to the foolish raccoon who helped them find our hidden place, and then helped himself to a cool bottle to rest in."
A chorus of mirthy hoots and laughter filled the air at the last goodhearted jab from the owl. "To a brave new future!"
Before bedtime, Remmy resolved to actually get some time to check in on Paul, who had been released from his bottle to eat a portion of feast from the cell, and was now rubbing at the cork. "Paul?"
"Oh, wizard. Hi."
"I wanted to check in on you. I imagine you recognize we succeeded?"
"You did! Or this is an elaborate plank. Prank."
Remmy smiles, shaking his head. "No pranks, no tricks. We all-"
The owl interrupts himself to the sound of footsteps. In fact, the rest of his party had shown up behind him, princess included. "Told ya we'd be back," says Joanne.
"You did! A-and you are! Here, that is. I..."
He rubbed at his mask a bit, then smiled, his eyes glistening slightly.
"...I was afraid I wood--wouldn't see you all again. I mean, I knew you were all strong, but I couldn't help but dread the weight. Waiting."
"Having faith is not always easy, my friend," Pierre said, "and the world can be bitter. But not today."
He held Nagoya's hand and gently pulled her forward. "I present Her Highness, Princess Nagoya of Altair, formerly held captive by the Storm Dragon. Princess, this is Paul: our companion in captivity."
Paul bowed his head low, still gripping the jail bars, and Nagoya nodded.
"Pierre has told me much about you, Paul. That despite your shortcomings, you had the heart of someone who wished to be great, or rather, to be a part of something greater than yourself. Fellowship, and the loyalty that comes with it. He believes, given the chance, that you can become a great asset to our kingdom. Perhaps as a liaison or ambassador to the owls here, given how you helped Pierre and his party to find them. Would you be interested in that?"
Paul was silent for a moment, his gaze flicking from one face to the other. "I-I-I..."
Pierre wordlessly spoke to him with his eyes, urging him to say--
"--Yes! Ah--I-I mean... yes, Your Highness," he said more evenly, bowing his head low again. "I-If only to repay my debt to them."
Nagoya looked at Pierre, smiling slightly with her eyes, then turned her gaze back to the jailed raccoon.
"Very well, then. Lord MacDonall has agreed to remand you to our custody. There is only one condition you must satisfy for your release."
Nagoya pointed at the bottle Paul was holding.
"You must enter the bottle, once more."
Paul's snout opened slowly, like an upside-down drawbridge. He looked down at the bottle and then back up at the Princess.
Nagoya smiled to hold back a laugh. "It is only until we leave his territory. Then, you will be released and allowed to travel with us. Do you accept?"
Paul clapped his jaw back to his snout and swallowed, clearing his throat. "Yes, peas--please! I accept," his fingers already prying at the cork.
He gets his grip, slips off the cork - and jumps back, angling quickly such that his head and hands are far and his feet and tail are near. And he's stopped in midair by the pulling forces, which quickly grasp hold of tasty raccoon paws and fluffy striped tail and slide them inside. In fact, he seems to fall into the bottle near effortlessly. "See you swoon---!"
Paul's lower body swirled down to the bottom. His tail stretched and wrapped around his legs, and his padded feet squished flat against the glass as his torso and left arm poured in together like a thick, rubbery cream. He pointed his snout down to look at himself entering, and the bottle's gravity yanked and stretched it down past the neck, causing a high-pitched squeak followed by a hollow fwump as his cheeks and head were swallowed whole.
The cork and his hands slip onto the edge of the bottle, and a vaguely awake Paul realizes his fingers are stuck in between. Remmy watches as the trickster summons the last of his strength and pulls them fully within...allowing the stasis to take hold, and setting him off to slumber.
Pierre nods...then yawns. "Right then. We too have sleep to get to...but I assume all of us, including our newish companion, will awaken refreshed?"
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Avian (Other)
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 15.8 kB
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