affame_le_geant_here_be_monsters fyn gula frau werzenwozen found the spegnere, his life ironically extinguished by the very birds he was impersonating. crow after crow she had tossed aside in maniacal frenzy until she discovered him buried alive, his breath cut short by a tumultuous fall of feathered nightmares. "how beautivul he looks," she said to herself, caressing the orange and black fur beneath the rumpled crow feathered costume. and she cried then, carefully, so as not to be seen by the little dog and the dandelion. she had bottlefed the tiger, having rescued it from pashti manka's cirque du diabolique, but that is another story altogether. yet, the tears were not only for the loss of a friend, more so for herself because she knew proina's wrath was upon her and if she had not the safety of the leather tarp, she too would be buried under an avian grave. she gazed up into the sky. indigo clouds were breaking up, revealing slices of blue sky and hints of clemency. one lone dark portion of turbulence carried the lightening words, "here be monsters." but, after a few minutes it too was gone. still, this cryptic reminder would follow her as a shadow that does not disappear when the sun sets. frau werzenwozen unhitched the spegnere from the harness of the wooden cart, and began clearing a path so they could resume the journey to eyesland. the sky completely cleared and sunshine poured forth mockingly. the dandelion, leaning on the sides of the cart, looked out over the ghastly scene, thinking of the term bella morte, for the light was an artist and the sheen of this multitude of various feathers was a beauty that could not go unrecognized. seeing frau werzenwozen struggling to uncover the bianca strada, he jumped off the cart, on to the bodies of the fallen birds, stumbled, fell, picked himself back up, and trudged over to where she worked. he joined her and together they laboured in silence until the way was clear. it was this thought they both shared, yet in two different capacities: "who will pull the cart now?" 020527 ... fyngula interesting question they both ask, for it is the same one pupperwinkle now seeks assistance for, although the wooden cart is wheeless. it has been a recurring problem, much the same in most of our lives. 021203 what's it to you? who go blather from