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piosenniel · 06-20-2003, 03:23 PM

They had pushed Old Bill to the front of the group. ‘You’ve got the sword,’ said Ben. ‘You go!’

With a yell of ‘CUMMERBUND!’, Old Bill had charged bravely forward, resolute or so they thought on vanquishing the monster for them. Their faces fell, and they huddled together once more when they saw his figure disappear in the distance, his sword held high.

‘I don’t think he’s coming back,’ whispered Mirabella to Ben. She nudged him gently in the ribs. ‘And look, those eyes are still there . . . blinking . . .’

Ben picked up a stout piece of firewood and crept forward, the others following close behind. ‘You’ld better git!’ he yelled as loudly as he could. Only a slight quaver at the end of his yell belied his brave stance.

Closer and closer they crept to the eyes in the grass. It seemed to have retreated a bit as they edged closer. ‘I think it’s afraid of us now,’ whispered Ben. ‘I’ll just throw this stick at it and run it off.’

He drew back his arm and sent the thick stick sailing in a great arc at the place in the tall grass they had last seen the monster. They heard it fall a great distance away and heard the sound of feet running off.

Ben turned back to the group, a smile on his face. ‘Well, I guess that’s that then. We’ll just . . .’

His words were cut off when a dark shadow came flying from the grass behind him, hitting him hard in the back and knocking him flat on his face.

‘HELP! It’s going to kill me!’ he screamed at the top of his lungs.

What he heard then was laughter . . . giggles, first . . . then full on belly laughs.

Ben looked up with a scowl on his face. He was going to die, and they were laughing at him!

‘Oh, Ben! Don’t be silly. No one’s going to kill you.’ Mirabella came near and crouched down in front of him. His mouth was half opened in reply to her when he felt something cold and wet against his ear. Ben craned his neck about to see what weight had landed on his back.

And there he beheld the grinning face of a rather large, unkempt dog, with the stick he had thrown clamped firmly in its mouth . . .

06-20-2003, 03:23 PM	#87
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	They had pushed Old Bill to the front of the group. ‘You’ve got the sword,’ said Ben. ‘You go!’ With a yell of ‘CUMMERBUND!’, Old Bill had charged bravely forward, resolute or so they thought on vanquishing the monster for them. Their faces fell, and they huddled together once more when they saw his figure disappear in the distance, his sword held high. ‘I don’t think he’s coming back,’ whispered Mirabella to Ben. She nudged him gently in the ribs. ‘And look, those eyes are still there . . . blinking . . .’ Ben picked up a stout piece of firewood and crept forward, the others following close behind. ‘You’ld better git!’ he yelled as loudly as he could. Only a slight quaver at the end of his yell belied his brave stance. Closer and closer they crept to the eyes in the grass. It seemed to have retreated a bit as they edged closer. ‘I think it’s afraid of us now,’ whispered Ben. ‘I’ll just throw this stick at it and run it off.’ He drew back his arm and sent the thick stick sailing in a great arc at the place in the tall grass they had last seen the monster. They heard it fall a great distance away and heard the sound of feet running off. Ben turned back to the group, a smile on his face. ‘Well, I guess that’s that then. We’ll just . . .’ His words were cut off when a dark shadow came flying from the grass behind him, hitting him hard in the back and knocking him flat on his face. ‘HELP! It’s going to kill me!’ he screamed at the top of his lungs. What he heard then was laughter . . . giggles, first . . . then full on belly laughs. Ben looked up with a scowl on his face. He was going to die, and they were laughing at him! ‘Oh, Ben! Don’t be silly. No one’s going to kill you.’ Mirabella came near and crouched down in front of him. His mouth was half opened in reply to her when he felt something cold and wet against his ear. Ben craned his neck about to see what weight had landed on his back. And there he beheld the grinning face of a rather large, unkempt dog, with the stick he had thrown clamped firmly in its mouth . . . __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.