She rounded the corner and came across the spindly form of Almost-There. She turned and nodded to the left – Almost-There favored the left side of where his body seemed to be – and heard his clicking, buzzing greeting.
There was no time to stop and chat, however. She was heading for the forest, down the winding trail from the ruined battlements. She called to Maybe-There, who gave her a hesitant wave.
The space under the trees was dark and full of sounds. She heard a twig snap behind her and spun around. “I know it’s you, Not-There-At-All,” she said. “Quit playing.”
Tools of the Trade: The Perpetua Pencil
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