Umber flew above the ridge of jagged black rocks. Their tops were covered with layers of scintillating, sparkling snow. Underneath those snow caps, dark stone walls, interspersed with cracks, caverns, and ledges, swept down into a deep chasm, submerged into infinite darkness of their shadows.
Somewhere down below in that eternal shade lived a small dwarfish tribe. The rock dwarfs populated this inhospitable area for centuries. They climbed the cliffs, showing miracles of courage and dexterity, chasing equally deft and quick mountain goats.
Mountain goats had an uncanny ability to traverse those intimidating, almost vertical walls, even at places where those walls were so smooth, that it looked like somebody leveled all the protrusions and cavities, and then polished them with sandpaper. Also, mountain goats could be very inconspicuous. Their coloration helped them to blend with the terrain, and their movements had a steady, liquid quality, preventing an observer from revealing their presence.
Nonetheless, the dwarfs knew how to track, stalk, and catch the goats. Although, sometimes it took days for the hunting party to reveal the presence of the herd. The dwarves followed barely perceptible traces and marks on the walls, dried remnants of goat shit stuck to the gleaming black granite, like smears of white chalk. When the presence of goats in the vicinity was established, the hunters began following the herd slowly. Dwarves unhurriedly crawled along the rock surface. They used impalpable protrusions, narrow ledges, and infinitesimal cracks for support, crossing areas, where the cliffs were treacherously smooth and slippery.
They were accustomed to rely solely on strength and dexterity of their hands. At the spots where protrusions and ledges on the wall allowed a little more space, dwarves rested, standing flattened against the rock with their toes hanging above the abyss.
Looking down, they could see whiffs of clouds slowly moving below, and somewhere deep down in a haze they saw the brown and green surface, stretching far away, reminiscent of a rough carpet. What looked like a carpet from this height was a forest; the minuscule bumps and threads were pines and spruces. Although, those just as well could be stalks of tall grass on a vast meadow. The perception of distance from such height was deceptive. At first glance, it looked like a vertiginous, magnificent, and terrifyingly deep chasm. When the eye and mind of the observer got a bit accustomed to this vast immensity of empty space, spreading into infinity in all directions including down, it became clear that the chasm below was much deeper than it looked at first.
Luckily for dwarfs, they were able to rest, standing still, plastered to the cliff. Everything that didn't constitute pulling their scrawny bodies up along the flat, vertical wall, while holding by their fingers and toes to the bumps and juts so tiny that they could only be found by touch, gave dwarves an opportunity to recover, replenish their energy, and regain their strength. This included standing against the rock on a narrow ledge above the void. As a matter of fact, the dwarves could sleep in that position, which they often did when the goat hunt took several days.
The dwarves could predict the general direction of the herd movement. Here and there the cliff surface contained hollows and depressions where grew patches of blue moss, the goats' staple. Both the dwarves and the goats knew the pattern and locations of those places, and their usual routes were designed to cover as many of them as possible, spending as little energy as possible. Or rather the goat routes were designed that way, and the routes of dwarves were simply organized to match the routes of goats.
While passing through the various goats' resting places, dwarves studied the samples of goats' shit, the degree of its freshness. By assessing how long ago this shit was produced, the dwarves were able to estimate the time when the goatherd passed that spot, and how far it could've gotten in the following time.
Luckily for dwarves, goats tended to linger in those tiny valleys of goat paradise. They ate, slept long hours, ate again, mated, just fooled around, meditated, and slept again. Since for the dwarves in pursuit it took only half an hour to sleep and approximately three minutes to eat, they were steadily gaining on them.
At some point, a member of the dwarf team with the sharpest eyesight noticed some slight movement on the edge of perception among the rocks. He would gesture to other team members, and after that, the hunt switched from the stalking phase to the phase of active pursuit. In other words, after learning that their quarry was close and that they didn't need to spare their energy anymore, the dwarves unleashed all their remaining strength in a swift and violent spurt.
The best case scenario was when the goats relaxed at their safe place, eating, sleeping, or mating. When the dwarves began falling on them with bloodcurdling screeches, roars, growls, and farts, the goats stood stunned with an expression of utter surprise and incomprehension in their innocent blue eyes.
The following scenes consisted of gushing blood, flying wool, screams, obscenities, and sounds of faces getting punched.
The direction the Academy was giving was unclear. An saw it, and it was difficult for him to understand. This existential mess, when what he did didn't matter, but what he was did.
The sun was approaching the horizon, and the duel started with its participants lunging at each other with long sharp swords. When steel hit the steel, it produced swift sparks visible in the twilight. Lightning speed movements and loud shouts of shadows in the dark, violet haze. Several spectators observed the duel while standing still and smoking cigarettes.
At some point, the blade found its target in the darkness, the shadow screamed angrily, staggered, and slumped to the ground. Another shadow made a step back relaxed and waved its sword in the air, stretched its shoulders, and produced a short barking laughter.
"That's what they taught you, right?"
"Depends on how you see it, depends on what meaning you put in the whole process. This is something I'm still trying to figure out for myself. The messages are vague, and I can interpret them one way, while you may interpret them differently. Each of us will come out of here with a different perception of what this all is about."
"I see. It's a just a tool, isn't it?"
"Tools don't bite; I think this is what's called the Thing. Just look at it this way."
Five dark figures, almost imperceptible in the darkness, moved along the path leading through the field toward the main gate. At this hour of the night, all the lights were out. Huge trees grew near the path; their massive boughs hung above; a dense canopy of leaves blocked the starlight, making the darkness thick and impenetrable.
"When I started listening to those lectures, doing things, you know, I didn't understand what it meant at all. But it was thrilling."
Marble walls stretched high above their heads, coalescing at a dizzying height into a pale ceiling adorned with candelabras that were barely perceptible in the haze of distance. Statues of hedgehogs stood along the walls, holding baskets of almonds and raisins in their hands. Marble slabs of the floor, smooth and gleaming like mirrors, reflected an enormous space of the hall and produced multiplying echoes of visitor's steps.
"It gives you full control. There is no better way to control everything inside and outside. Your mind, your soul, your fears, and passions. Your communication with reality and the impact you produce on reality."
"Depends on whether the control is your goal. I don't think this is what they try to teach us. Control is only a tool, and you need a different deeper goal that would justify your desire to control and impact the reality. Otherwise, you are just playing a game."
"This is what they call, the Seed."
Streams of sunlight passed through the curtains and danced merrily on the stone walls, on cold flagstones of the floor, on the oak furniture, dry and falling apart. First glimpses of spring warmth turned eternal lumps of snowdrifts into a translucent mesh, crumbling and streaming with water. Wiry skeletons of trees fluttered under the gushes of strong warm breeze.
Sand rose in the air, condensing in clouds and obscuring the sun. The whole top layer of the desert moved with an eerie whisper. Before the middle of the day, the sky changed its color from blue to rusty yellow because of all the dust floating in the air.
A group of men wrapped in white sheets sat behind the dune where they hid from the constant barrage of sand thrown at them by the wind. The wind grew stronger with each minute; and it was getting dark despite the midday, because of thickening clouds of sand blocking the sunlight.
One of the figures in white sheets pointed at the sky, and all of them looked at the chain of dark creatures slowly moving above. They rhythmically swung their wings, all at once with perfect synchronicity. Their shades quickly slithered through the dunes.
The sandstorm gained strength, and now everything was submerged in darkness, and dust in the air made it hard to breathe. The wind drove dust clouds to the south, where the few settlements of Aireans stood among the dunes; a scattering of huts in the desert near the few remaining sources of water.
The chain of dark creatures passed through the sky above, moving their wings in sync, a strange, mesmerizing picture. Other groups of creatures approached from the northern horizon one after another, each one bigger than the previous. Soon the sky at the north became black because of endless swarms coming from that direction.
It seemed like they brought wind with them. As groups of black creatures crossed the sky, the wind grew stronger, ruffling the scruffy patches of dry grass. Snowdrifts of clouds, floating in the ocean of azure, became ragged, torn into snatches and twirls, then hey dissolved into imperceptible white mist.
Gentle murmuring waves licked the sandy bank, a long stretch of pure white sand, extending toward a scattering of palm trees farther inland. The waves rolled over myriads of sparkling gems, leaving veils of bubbling foam. Their soothing, monotonous whisper produced feelings of calmness and midday summer drowsiness. Bodies of local tribesmen were scattered on the bank, left for scavengers to pick on. Apart from the fact that there weren't any scavengers among the timid fauna of this idyllic island. So the bodies just laid there getting darker, bloated, and more unappetizing with each passing hour. In any case, the resistance was overpowered, and one remaining part of the tribe followed the coalition, whose interests coincided with the interests of captain Mo. Mo wanted coconuts and palm oil. And shells. There was a rare kind of shells that could be found in the waters, surrounding those majestic islands. The shells were highly valued, and in the Old World, many people believed that they had some magic properties, allowing people possessing them to live longer.
When captain Mo's landing boat touched smooth light sand, rolling among sparkling foam, which bubbled and whispered on the surface of crystal water, Mo thought how fascinatingly innocent and pure this place looked. He felt regret that he would need to fuck it up.
His first impression quickly evaporated when he started dealing with what constituted the Islands governance system. Different tribes dispersed throughout the island, and each had a group of chieftains, who boasted that their particular tribe was superior to anyone else. At the same time, all the tribes brought human sacrifices to the same wooden idols placed inside the circle of rocks at the clearing among the jungle. Apparently, all the tribes, while not getting along with each other, shared the same afterlife. And thus, they all complied with the divine central authority, consisting of wooden idols. While those Idols couldn't convey their commands to people directly, their disposition could be both vaguely and distinctly interpreted by Priests, attending to them. Priests weren't held in high regard, though, they were merely interpreters and translators. The low caste. All priests were split into four major warring coalitions, divided by the character and implications of their interpretation of spirits' thoughts. They never got into direct conflict, although they could. Each had at their disposal some obscure boys, their faces permanently concealed by black hoods, who could support their cause by killing. But the priests thought better of it. A major religious kerfuffle would make tribesmen wonder if they could trust any of them. And it would also undermine the mythology and occult practices that powered island life. So instead of getting into an open squabble, Priests added to their translations of deities' words additional spins and twists that could also serve as trapdoors for their opponents.
This was something that allowed to preserve central authority because nothing else would bind tribe leaders to follow a common set of principles. The alternative would be that; each chieftain would struggle for domination on the Island, the tribes would step on each other toes and eventually fight each other. So essentially what allowed keeping tribe leaders in check boiled down to their pride and vanity. Naturally, repeatedly glorified by their own people, they started to wonder if this superior status should've been extended into eternity as well. No way they would rot and be eaten by worms in the same manner as all those from lower castes. That would defeat the whole purpose of their achievements.
The old priest Zugu remembered when he was a child, and a war broke out between his and neighboring tribe. It lasted several months, and half of the people from both villages perished, and others had to live without meat for years and years afterward because men, who were hunters, and boys, who could grow and become hunters, died in the war. Those were lean years, and a generation of children, of which Zugu was part, grew up frail and feeble from malnutrition. At the same time, those years of constant hunger made their minds sharp and inquisitive.
When the chieftain of Zugu's tribe Twa was on his deathbed, Zugu worked as a servant in his family, cleaning, cooking, running errands. He had a penchant for making up shit, and he had weird dreams, about which he talked more than he should, and, as a result, all the members of the household thought he was kind of nuts. Except for Twa who liked to listen to boy's babble. Twa was ailing, unable to get up from his bed for a couple of months, and was preparing to die. He was bored and also frustrated, seeing how the golden cloud of his former glory dissipated before his eyes, while he was lying in bed, incapable of getting up and doing something about that. People forgot. Time passed, and whatever achievements one might've had, those could keep him high in people's minds and conversations only for so long. Twa thought it was unfair.
Twa listened to Zugu's chatter, and it amused him, relieving his boredom. Zugu had a series of recurring dreams, in which he saw a vast green meadow. In the center of the meadow stood a white marble pedestal, consisting of circular platforms stacked one upon another, comprising the stairs. On the lower platforms stood distinguished warriors and heroes, higher levels were occupied by chieftains, clan leaders, and generals. On the uppermost platform stood a gaunt bald man, wearing white robes, with a staff in his claw-like hand. Twa laughed and asked Zugu who he thought that skinny bald man might've been. Zugu had no idea. Meanwhile, several strange events happened in the village, which made everybody wondering.
I entered this haunted house and walked forward carefully, observing with curiosity various mysterious signs drawn on the walls around me. Then a huge hairy elephant blocked my path.
" The hell are you doing here?" the elephant asked indignantly "It's a haunted house, a home for mysterious creatures, you obviously don't belong here."
I looked at him innocently. I've noticed a cluster of hastily drawn scrawls on the wall. A beam of light traced the ragged surface of an ancient wallpaper, dancing playfully every time the breeze outside touched leaves on the branches near the window.
"I think, it's not really against the rules since it's daytime. According to what I know about magic rules and stuff, magic rules don't apply during the daytime. Or do they?"
The corridor and the room ahead of me were filled with various objects: old toys, cutlery, pieces of bright colored paper, strange artifacts, and magic items scattered around chaotically, making the place look unkempt and disorganized.
"Eh, I dunno" the hairy elephant scratched his head and looked around as if looking for support. A small squirrel immediately sprung from some obscure place behind a rickety wardrobe and looked at me with her piercing suspicious eyes.
"I think it's strange that he's skulking around here. I don't like it. And I don't like him. Ok, kill him."
A transparent shadow of the squirrel leaped from wall to wall, slid across the floor and the things thrown around it, following nervous movements, twitches, abrupt turns, and spins, accompanying the squirrel's flow of consciousness.
"Eh, but would it be reasonable?"
"Absolutely, he's strange and suspicious, and I don't like it, and I don't like him. Kill him. Now"
A sudden gust of wind ruffled the leaves outside, and the pattern of light on the walls and floor dissolved into a swarm of bright sunny spots, jumping around excitedly.
"Eh, well, if you say so."
I decided to change the topic of conversation to something less violent and less personal. I thought it would be better to clarify the situation and fix the misunderstanding.
"You might be wondering why I'm here. There is no secret about that. And my intentions are clear, and it's going to be beneficial for everybody in the end. I host aTV show, where I invite inhabitants of various haunted places, so they can tell about their lives, complain about their problems. Sometimes we find solutions while we discuss them. So it's kinda cool for you, and it's cool for me."
"Oh, really?" my rant was interrupted by a quiet and mocking voice from a dark shadow in the corner. After straining my eyes for a bit I discerned outlines of a fat and fluffy cat, lying on a massive chest like a big, comfy cushion.
"You should tell us more about your noble goals and unquestionable benefits it's going to give us" murmured the cat mockingly. The chest he was lying upon looked like an ancient treasure container of a pirate, decorated with carvings and a gossamer of gilded patterns, strewn all over it. Near the chest stood an antique heavy cabinet, its shelves stacked with dark and dusty ancient books and columns of disposable plastic plates.
"I don't like it at all. I don't see the reason for anybody to skulk here, be it day or night. And what he says doesn't sound trustworthy either. I'm telling you; if we don't do anything about it right away..."
I noticed a massive chandelier that hung ponderously below the ceiling. It looked fancy, like a tangle of interlaced tree branches with candles attached to a multitude of the small twigs, growing on their ends.
"Eh, well, but what he says about the daylight sounds reasonable. I know nothing about whether humans cannot enter the magic premises during the daytime. Who knows, maybe they can. And that thing about TV show sounds interesting."
The hairy elephant looked me in the eyes as if asking me to confirm once again my good intentions and the validity of my claims. The squirrel angrily drilled me with her stare. The cat smiled contentedly with traces of irony flashing from behind its half-closed lids.
"As you have said, and I don't see any reason to doubt the truthfulness of your claims, it's going to benefit us, and I don't see any reason to reject your generous proposition, taking into consideration the overall boredom of the current situation and..."
"You are not making decisions here. I'm making decisions here," somebody hissed above my head, and raising my head, I saw a golden snake wrapped around a wooden bar below the ceiling. The wooden bar looked old and dark and heavy, and ancient, as everything in this strange and haunted place. Well, except disposable dishes.
"I repeat, I don't like it, and it's not going to end well. If whoever wants would come here and sneak around, we'll find ourselves as some kind of zoo. I'm not crazy about becoming an exhibition."
From the outside came peaceful buzzing of insects and chirping of birds. The sunspots kept dancing around the walls, giving the place lively and animated look.
"If it's not against the rules, I dunno, maybe, there is nothing wrong with that."
Among the things, scattered on the floor, I noticed several glass globes with slight, almost imperceptible glow inside them. Also, it was like something was slowly moving inside, some shadows of creatures unrecognizable through the thick layer of hazy glass.
"I see some definite advantages in an alternative to this daily existence, consisting primarily of nothing, except the conversations about certain deep philosophical questions nobody of you except me can understand anyway. So I don't think, there is a reason for any of you to object to this potential change in our daily routine in the form of a TV show where we can complain about our problems. Personally, I'm going to complain about the problem of being surrounded by intellectually inferior beings."
"Hush," hissed the snake and looked me in the eyes thoughtfully "I can read your thoughts. You think about fried chicken."
I thought that there wasn't any reason for me to object, so I just shrugged.
"The way I see it, it really might be something interesting. Why not?"
Wizards ran towards the castle with shouts, peppering its rough stone walls with fireballs and lightning bolts. The defenders poured hot tar from the walls, and the wizards backed down. Furry defenders, lining up on the top of the wall, produced squeals of delight and disappeared inside to celebrate. The wizards shaking drops of hot tar off their soaked robes went back to the camp grumbling and punching each other in the nose every now and then in frustration.
The fox sat at the wooden table with its top blackened by smoke and hardened fat from numerous meals. She looked at the map spread before her, thinking irritably how her hastily organized plans failed to bring the expected results. She studied the map, which showed detailed plans of the castle with its weak spots marked with red ink blotches. Unfortunately, all the weak spots turned out to be deep inside.
The eldest of wizards entered the command tent throwing a hating glance at the fox. He was still soaked in hot tar and emitted whiffs of pungent vapor that quickly filled the tent. The fox squinted her eyes.
"As I warned it hasn't worked," said the wizard grudgingly "actually, it didn't even sound like a plan. Do you have something else?"
"Right," said the fox and scratched behind her ear " I have an idea. When the night comes, you sneak to the wall and then conjure the conjuration of the omnipotent magic mole. I mean it's some kind of a mole that digs tunnels. I mean I think about digging a tunnel under this wall, and since none of you is going to do it manually, all I can rely on is the magic mole, who'll dig this tunnel" the fox pensively looked at the ceiling. Above her, flickers of fire danced in a small coppery lamp that hung from the top of the tent. The wizard looked at her with disgust.
"The foundations of this castle are fortified with such strong magic that nobody was able to pass this way for several hundreds of years" the wizard focused his unblinking furious glare on the fox
"Really?" the fox said distractedly
"Oh, I'm surprised, that it's news for you," growled the wizard with an increasing rage "considering the amount of time we spent preparing. And, by the way, we all expected you to conduct, at least once, a meeting where we would be able to let you know about the things we know, including for example this thing about foundational magic."
The fox looked absentmindedly past the fuming wizard and focused her eyes on the dancing fire inside the lamp. Her thoughts wandered, jumping from one subject to another. Eventually, she managed to focus on the current matters, including the siege of the castle and quickly came up with a new plan.
It was a dark and stormy night. The wizards skulked toward the wall, trying not to make any noise. Above their heads flashed bolts of lightning followed by deafening explosions of thunder. Upon reaching the wall, the wizards hid in its dark shadow and, quietly cackling, started to climb on each other's shoulders, creating a live ladder. A wizard at the bottom cursed silently, trying to comprehend how it didn't occur to the fox to bring an actual ladder. As more wizards climbed on top of each other, his legs started to shudder, struggling with the combined weight of their fat bodies, and he groaned mournfully. When the last wizard reached the top of the wall and, panting, made an attempt to climb over it, the air was suddenly pierced with triumphant meows. Dozens of cats appeared on the wall carrying heavy paddles.
As the wizards were one by one hammered with paddles, they tumbled down like sacks of potatoes and crawled on the ground grunting and gurgling. Then the cats poured another portion of hot tar on their heads, producing another wave of plaintive grumbles. The wizards walked back defeated and depressed, thinking about what they wanted to do with the fox. The fox sat inside the tent looking dreamily at the ceiling where the flames merrily danced in the portable lamp. She thought about different things, trying to focus on the problem of the siege that unfortunately was taking much longer than she expected.
"Are you absolutely sure, it's gonna to work out?" said the Kitten "It sounds dangerous."
"We just need to try and find out," said the Dragon "there is no harm in trying. Even if there will be harm, muhaha."
"Sounds reasonable," said the Kitten with a sly smile and focused its blue innocent eyes on the scrolls with strange inscriptions. The Dragon fidgeted in visible agitation, picking randomly variously colored marbles and briefly studying them. Some of the marbles apparently suited Dragon's plan and it put them aside with a grunt of satisfaction. Some were wrong, and she tossed them aside in frustration.
The Kitten with an unchanging expression of innocence in its blue eyes started to assemble some construction. A hint of a prankish smile appeared on Kitten's lips, indicating that it found something. Its blue eyes sparkled with excitement.
The air suddenly became filled with a flurry of violently crackling lightning bolts. Somebody outside of the clearing screamed in rage.
"What the fuck do you think was that?" asked the Kitten with curiosity. It lifted its wide-open blue eyes that continued to exude innocence. The dragon fidgeted even more excitedly, producing impatient howls and shouts. It had already picked all the marbles it needed and shuffled them, trying to arrange them into a correct pattern.
"I kinda understand everything and all" slowly said the Eagle coming out of the tall grass, surrounding the clearing. Wisps of blue smoke rose from its feathers. The Eagle looked at the proceedings with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. "But could you explain to me what in the name of frogs is going on here?"
"Ok, hi pip! You'd never believe what we are trying to do" exclaimed the Dragon all but jumping up and down in excitement. The Kitten looked at the Eagle with its wide-open blue eyes and offered it a broad, friendly smile. This was such a warm and friendly smile that the icicles at the North Pole started melting.
"We conjure a Demon from the underworld that can supply us with an indefinite supply of fluffy puffs," said the Kitten with a laugh and sent the Dragon a wink. The Dragon caught the hint, smiled enigmatically, without looking at anybody. It kept rearranging the marbles that began to emanate a visible glow
"Never thought that fluffy puffs are a good idea in the first place," said the Eagle grumpily "but the unlimited supply, holy shit. Don't you think of the health hazards and stuff."
"We'll see," said the Dragon without looking at the Eagle. Now it was completely focused and absorbed in rearranging marbles.
"First, we need to complete the conjuration, and then we'll see what'll come out of it" finished the Dragon, at this point talking mostly to itself.
The Kitten's smile faded, and it resumed building a bizarre contraption on the ground. More cracking followed. Lighting bolts appeared out of thin air and exploded with a deafening bang. The Eagle looked at the proceedings with incredulity, occasionally twitching nervously and cupping its ears with its hands. Meanwhile, a dense cluster of coal-black clouds appeared above their heads, spinning ominously. The Eagle looked up, rolled its eyes, and produced a short nervous snigger.
"Ok, I'll be right back then. Tell me what would come out of it later" the Eagle graciously departed, trying not to reveal its distress.
"Sure, see ya," said the Kitten and Dragon in unison without lifting their eyes from the magical constructions they were busy putting together.
"What a drab," said the Kitten distractedly, its full attention consumed by the construction that started emanating a weird pink glow.
The dragon grunted contentedly, then its eyes suddenly went wide, and it started jumping up and down "You got to get to look at this, pronto!" The Kitten lifted its innocent blue gaze with curiosity
"The fuck is going on here?" the Swan entered the clearing with a half-bored, half-amused expression on its face and stood in its center, realizing that such position gave it a spirit of authority "I was passing by, looked at this direction, and like, O, shit, a cloud. And I stand and wonder what the fuck it might be. What are you doing actually?" The Swan pinned the Kitten with a sharp stare. The Kitten returned a look of crystal innocence in its wide-open blue eyes, smiled amiably, and almost screamed in delight.
"Ah, the Swan, eventually, it's so nice to see you. Why don't you visit more often? We are conjuring a demon that can produce an unlimited supply of fluffy puffs."
"Holy shit" exclaimed the Swan "why on earth would you need the unlimited supply of fluffy puffs. But, never mind, whatever" the Swan rolled its eyes, saw an ominously spinning cloud above and started studying it with curiosity
"Hi, Swan," said the Dragon absentmindedly. Now it was completely absorbed by magic marbles, which at that moment danced in the air, emanating bright light and melodic sound. "I'd give you a hug, but I'm very busy at this moment" the Dragon studied dancing marbles with a hint of concern in its eyes and changed the positions of several of them "you should really come more often. Don't remember when the last time I saw you."
"Well, never mind," said the Swan, switching its attention from the cloud to something invisible before its eyes. "Do you really think, it's going to work?"
"Sure, why not?" exclaimed the Kitten excitedly "so far it's going pretty well. I didn't even expect it."
"Yeah, sure," said the Swan doubtfully looking at the dark spinning cloud. The cloud was getting bigger, spun faster, and produced mournful groans of constipation. "Well, I probably should wish you luck with that" added the Swan.
"Hi, what's that here?" The Fox stumbled into the clearing out of the wall of grass, tripped over scattered stones, almost fell, caught its balance, frantically waving its hands. All this without taking its fascinated stare from the cloud.
