The moons typically rise in silence.
My gut writhes with mysterious nightcrawlers.
We have a dwarf now.
Welcome, to . . . wherever it is I am.
We were in the forest hunting wolves. It's been five minutes so I've forgotten why. Pretty sure it was for money.
Plans were made, traps were set, sheeps were milling about, and I was told to climb a tree.
Climb. A. Tree.
Like a common monkey.
That bear, whose name I refuse to learn because if I mess up it's name I might addle the bear, started howling and attracted a bunch of wolves. I was in a tree and couldn't hear what people were saying. Or I wasn't paying attention again.
These "suddenly wolves" started steeling sheeps. Not ideal. I hope we don't have to pay for them.
The really pleasant rat kicked a thieving wolf right in the snoot, stopping it long enough for me to blast some magic. That wolf POPPED!
Do you know what the sound of a wolf popping is?
I do.
Everyone else does now too.
I like this sound.
It's the sound of an old sock filled with gelatin hitting a wall mixed with the "schluck" that comes from turning a bunny inside out.
Upon their friend popping, the rest of the wolves yelled something before running away. Gloopy Gurl managed to catch a wolf and everyone started talking to it,
trying to make friends with it, interrogating it, naming it, and promising that I wouldn't bash in it's skull with a crowbar, letting it go to bring forth it's leader.
Very large wolves appeared. People talked to the, the wolves talked back. Something about farming sheeps and joining the local village as protectors?
We were put in charge of convincing the townsfolk that the wolves were in fact nice.
There were impassioned pleas, drinking contests, and me talking to a child mauled by wolves. "Be nice" they told me. "This one was attacked by wolves" they told me.
I guess telling this mauled child that these already magically altered wolves might find themselves another wizard who could bestow upon them thumbs, thusly allowing them to open doors wasn't incentive enough to allow the magic wolves to join Townsville.
Won't he be surprised when his real worry should be focused on crows with knives.
The end.