affame_le_geant_answering_the_door fyn gula when couge opened the heavy oak door, he was, to say the least, overwhelmed by the malicious presence that awaited him. staring into the yellow, blood-shot eyes of the one whose hand was still raised in the act of knocking, couge pumped a second shell into the chamber and set the shotgun across his chest in readiness. twinkletoes stood behind him on tiptoe. his paper body turned bright red in full-out alarm. praayli and thora were huddled togehter at the kitchen window, surveying the mob that was assembled in the back yard, which seemed to be amassing as the seconds passed. "what do you want?" couge asked. his question was pinched with careful articulation, an initial attempt to parley with diplomatic intention. he was glad that he swallowed the curses he wanted to say when he realized who and what he was dealing with. in the few seconds he had until the answer followed, he quickly noticed the snow had stopped and then hurridly scanned the group that had filed on to the porch. the leader, a solidly built man was dressed in a military-type uniform, black suede coat and pants to the knee. he wore black leather boots with too many straps to count that rose up his legs. there was a grey-wolf's head and face visible beneath a leather scullcap and a tightly fastened chinstrap. he was flanked by two attendants in similar attire and behind him were about seven others who had weapons of some type and torches that burned with a thick, black, acrid smoke. two of them held a banner made of white muslin wrapped around thin locust posts that read in finely embroidered black letters, " the insufferable hunger of the damned" couge could make out several others that stood out in the yard, also holding torches and warthogs with harnesses and leashes of black leather and sharp metal spikes. they sat at attention as if they were well trained. it was they who had cut out the letters in the snow with their agile noses. he saw a solid wood cart that resembled a paddy wagon with a small window that had metal bars instead of glass. it was pulled by four ostriches, whose legs were wrapped with iridescent tape so they, no doubt, glowed in the dark and could be seen along the bianca strada, notoriously treacherous on a dark winter's night. he also noticed the cut-out message in the snow but did not have the time to read it. there was enough right at his door to occupy his mind and the safety of his family. "we've come for the mandrill," the leader answered. his tone was surprisingly discreet, tinged with respect like the blush on a yellow cameo apple, as if he meant not to interrupt, only get what he came for and then leave. and then that's when couge oktuber made his first mistake. 030204 what's it to you? who go blather from