"Well, yes, I'm afraid we do if you wish to go along with our plan...you know...about..." Rytien hoped Lyra would figure it out. "I can't say it out loud!"
[Break to owl - letter world]
Another stinkin owl. Stinkin little owl. Rytien decided it was time to do her own thing. So, she snapped her fingers together and a falcon flew down to land on her shoulder, but spotting the little owl, it swooped down on it instead. Tiny wings don't cut it. The falcon came back to Rytien, and she plucked a feather out of its teeth. Then she took out a piece of paper and ink and used the little feather to write.
Dear Hairy son of a Dutch Pig Elfy Boy,
Well, smarty pants, it doesn't hurt to sink in a submarine, eh? You only suffocate and die. Or, usually when it sinks, water comes through the hull and you drown. Not a big problem, eh? I will be awaiting word from Lyra to decide on what we will do. You have no say in it because you are completely obsolete. Go curl up and die in the punch bowl.
Signed,
Rytien, Dagoriel
P.S. - You are a fish-eyed weasel face.
The falcon flew off to find Anuion, and, dropping the letter on his head, it began plucking out hairs.
[Back to party world]
[ May 04, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]
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