Me: :D Dinoooooooooooo~
Dino: Whaaaat.
Me: Youuuu haave aa baaaadddd Dropplettttt...
Dino: Her fault! It's always her fau-
Me: I'm waaitttinng... forr youu tooo gett dissquuaaallifiiiieeeeeed...
Dino: SHUT UP! -kicks a lamp-
Me: Where did that lamp come fro-
Dino: SHUTUP! -throws the repaired lamp at me-
The Lost Fossil Fighter
Chapter 7: Staining Colors
I really like fossil fighting. Seriously. Who doesn't want to watch their pet vivosaur maul stupid, pink shanshans? Plus, I didn't have to feel any unnatural bits of pain like all those other times I'd fight with Droplet and suddenly be attacked by nothing. There's no better way to cool down than letting loose those colossal things and enjoying the show. But as much as I wanna keep screaming and shouting about such a win, such an amazing battle win, the cheering stops when I can hear Diggins shouting over my voice.
"Dino! What in the name of stego was all that dealing with?" His voice is now blustery and wild, and when I look up from the bloody show, his chocolate face steams with red and more wildness. Not to mention the turquoise hair that's going every which way like a new vivosaur on his head. "Dino... what the... heck..." With another giant breath, Diggins smooths his glasses onto his face so those discreetly turquoise eyes can see again.
This is probably a really good moment to take a giant dash towards the exit of the arena before the mad scientist over here pops a fuse. A vein the size of my olive-colored finger practically crawls over his dark forehead. My fingers start to tingle with a slight urge to literally pop the bulgy thing, but I settle myself by staring down into the stormy face. "Hello friend!" I squeak like he's my friend. "See me win back there?"
With a snort, Diggins smooths his hair over again. Not like that does anything, of course. I nearly giggle, but that stony feeling slipping into my stomach tells me to shut up already. I take that idea, staring almost obediently at the old geezer that isn't very old. "Do you have, I don't know-" Doctor stops mid-sentence to flutter around his hands. "-any idea what you did back there with-with Droplet? Believe it or not-"
"Believe it or not, show-off know-it-all whatever, Droplet and I managed to maul someone!" I couldn't help but interrupt him. Not my fault Dr. Diggins is boring. And anyways, he should be happy that I managed to maul a bunch of shanshans. Turns out I'm not a complete butthead. When I started with Droplet, I couldn't even kill one of those vile, pink, rock-brained scale-faces. But now I can easily chew up their innards, at least three at a time too. I personally feel that Diggins should feel happy for his improving little "friend," if that's what he calls me. I'll have to say, the tearing felt pretty shocking. I might've even seen my pearly whites grow the size of my own vivosaur's? With those tearing pieces of bone? Dunno, but my mouth felt tough with the biting. Now I'm kinda sore, even...
Yet the scientist bobbles his head around. He almost makes it look like his whole face wasn't screwed on properly. "No. The whole thing about battles isn't necessarily winning. There's something way more important with vivosaurs that reaches on a deeper connection than shouting at them to-" The coward gives out a big shiver, his lab coat floating in the thick air. "-kill," he finishes in a flourish. Diggins immediately busies himself in the act of straightening his unstretchable hair. The blue-green coils keep slipping around his face, making my throat rumble with a laugh. He's such a clueless guy.
"Dino! Focus!" A dark arm slithers over and snatches my own before marching me out of the dusty area. I'm walking and dragging myself towards that hole out into the Fossil Station again. The giant t-rex face with those humungous, creepy teeth gape out further in front of the building, but poof out of view when I get more shoved than walked and tugged into the back of the skull, where I'd entered from. A glimpse back lets me see the traitor in her blonde rose bun. I scowl at Wendy, biting my lip to keep from laughing when her fairly fair skin color burns up a blush of what I hope's embarrassment.
After walking through the purple room and bookshelves, I get walked along the rocky path to the left and turn another left into that disastrous Fossil Center globe. Its lightly colored, cream tone gives off a glare when I'm more tugged and not shoved into the glass doors. When a blue curl brushes near my face, I resist the urge to bite at it. Starting to get bored, I open my mouth to ask a question, but instead swerve into some girl. Her long, red, tied hair smacks into my mouth, making my eyes water. "Dino, what are you doing?" And like that, I'm tugged back towards what I assume is death. Or doom. Probably both.
On the way into the giant, cream-colored dome, I've spat out at least ten long strands of that red hair. I'll never get why girls want long hair if it so easily gets caught in everything, especially my teeth.
Pulling out a few other strands with my free hand, Diggins keeps lugging me until we're inside the crystal clear doors of the Fossil Center and have taken a left on the fuzzy, purple carpet. He pushes me into a metal door on the right of that hallway, in which I think is the first in that row. When I finally look around, my gut stretches in annoyance. The room's tiny. There's a purple carpet on the floor and metal walls. And a chair: some plastic, cheap, black thing. I guess I'll be sitting here for a while.
Just to spite Diggins when he shows his wild face in here, I don't sit down on anything, but keep standing. If there's anything I can change here, I'll change it. I blink a few times at the metal walls until my eyes adjust to the extra shininess on the back wall. But when I squint a bit, I realize that that's the real metal here, and the only metal here. A rectangular machine on the back wall is what's shiny, and it has a whole bunch of funny container things with lots of paper inside. This must be a storage area for important documents that told important stuff that nobody cares about. A storage room of Diggins? He accidentally land me in a room he thought without importance? Ooh, treasure hunting... Speaking of boring papers, one isn't in the big, locked container but sits on the purple carpet flooring. I don't really care what Dr. Diggins will think when he sees me holding one of his sacred papers. I just feel a pickup in heart rate when my slightly shaking hand reaches out towards the words.
It takes a few tries before I grab onto the tree bark. I quickly smooth the paper on my leg and slide through the words. Doesn't look important yet, but a bunch of grumbles over someone being released. Maybe a kid sneaked onto the boat to Vivosaur Island again? But that's before I stumble upon a name without a last. "Dino." Just Dino. Not "Dino Nosh" or whatever else they think my last name is, but isn't.
Addressed to the man "in charge" of this island.
You are in ownership of what we suspect to be of importance to us. We were alerted from our sources that this male is currently on an island you generically call "Maia Island." The male is of what you may call quite... late "teen-ager" in "adolescence" or "manhood." We have no knowing of these names and shall therefore only call him by his true name.
We acquire your members of a staff to bring him onto this place you reside, labeled "Vivosaur Island" if sources state correctly. We will meet with him and take him back to where he should have been for the last seventeen years, if found to be the one we were indeed in search of. If not brought, anything in the way of his being coming shall be annihilated, including the pitiful island you "own." This is a serious matter at present and any disobedience or not-helping of your people will be disgraced and used against you.
Be of sureness that he is of how you dress, has an access to food when hungry or of however you go to the feeding of life, and is of shelter until we meet him and take him back. We wish you of no harm, but also need to take him back soon. There will be pain in this land if he cannot be brought.
His name is "Dino," and only Dino. He has been told to be living with other humans under a female called "Morn Nosh."
There's no signature of the person that sent it. Naturally. But my squeezing stomach tells me another thing.
At that time, I'd have dropped the creepy paper, but my hands seem to be stuck holding onto the words. So that letter was real, and Travers wasn't lying. I'm really wanted by something. By that, I hope we're not dealing with Boss Bratwurst or whatever and getting me locked up. I suddenly really hope Ms. Nosh didn't tattletale to Diggins or anyone about the time I jammed a rock into some important dude's helicopter -and steal his funky cowboy hat that I later lost to a vivosaur in the lake. Or the time that I broke one of her royal guest's famous teacup collection, painted with funny vivosaur faces all over. And I especially will that nobody else knows I'm the one that locked her in the cellar when she went down there for some frosting on a cake that I later ate. Hey, that last one was a complete accident.
Something tells me she's told them my whole life story. I can only hope that my "oh, so tragic" past of watching my parents die will get me kudos.
Between a throbbing heart and shaking hand, I never realized the footsteps until the door starts creaking open. I immediately toss the letter under the black chair. But that's before I notice the second paper, loitering on the ground in front of the metal machine. Another top-secret thing. So with a jump that would've made a little kid faint in awe -that's saying a jump which went barely nowhere, I flop over the slab of words and stare at Diggins when his turquoise eyes glimpse me behind the chair. Somehow his eyes dart towards the paper poking out from under my stomach slightly, and the one under the chair, and the way he squints tells me that two and two have been stuck together.
"Don't tell me..." He mumbles to himself further, reaching over and pulling out the now-wrinkled paper. "Did you read this?"
"What do you think, doc? I'm pretty sure it isn't rocket science to read."
He gives me a glare -probably for calling him "doc," but otherwise stays quiet. His mouth moves slightly as if he's talking to himself silently, though, which looks pretty stupid and hilarious. "Okay... okay then. I thought you may be able to understand it, but I wasn't sure. Although I guess that makes more sense for everything..." That glazed look ices over his turquoise eyes and stuns the Diggins like a statue. I really wanna kick his leg and see what happens. Especially now that my original fear drowned and fell off a cliff too.
The doc gives out another flustered sigh, blinking those turquoise eyes furiously. "Since you got that letter, we've been supposed to help you prosper, Dino. I'm sure you knew that... in a way.
"Well, I don't have much experience around kids-" His dark face looks really funny when burnt with red like that. "-especially ones without parents to get them here and check up on them regularly, so this is a bit of a new thing we've got here. And I don't think using your vivosaur as a tool rather than frie-"
I can't help it. "This mean I'm supposed to call you 'Dad?'"
His face goes even redder, starting to resemble either ketchup on dirt or rusted iron. To keep from giggling, I bite my tongue. This gets me imagining my mouth to be the same coloring, especially with all the blood coming out. Funny how salty it tastes, like water in the ocean, or of course water with salt in it. But blood's red, and water's supposed to be clear but somehow tends to resemble blue. How does coloring do that? Eh. I don't really care either way, as long as this stupidly salty stuff doesn't give me zits or grease or something. I'd much rather call Diggins "Daddy" than Greasy Joe such a high-esteem word.
A dark hand taps my head creepily. My gray, spiked hair restlessly flies in directions. "Dino! Focus! I just said that you shouldn't be so foolish to do so, even if your own dad is dead. That is irrational and... I'm guessing you don't care." He knows me so well. "Urgh... uh... what was I saying?"
"I dunno, daddy, but your stuttering is funnier than whatever lecture you're trying to give me. Can I become level two already and leave? It's really boring in here." I struggle to cover that paper's corner. He doesn't need to know my belly is holding something else, does he? Especially when this one is way more important than the one Travers showed me whatever ago but looks a little different.
"I said don't call me that!" Like mine does, his turquoise hair springs up in anger. Since I'm already on my stomach while still wearing the giant, gray shirt, Diggins can't see me laughing silently. "Urgh. No, wait, I've remembered." He straightens his glasses as they stoop over again. He fumbles with the buttons on his lab coat. He's taking too long; I can feel the stiff air in this metal room and a bit of tightness from the tiny walls. Kind of close together, I could say. Ugh. There's the cold pinch in my stomach; there it is.
Finally the Diggins speaks up again, smoothing his turquoise hair down with one dark skin hand while attempting to keep those glasses straight with the other. "Furthermore, don't do that. Anyways..." His eyes stray around the stifling chamber and the purple, dusty carpet. The blue-green orbs even glaze over that black chair. "As long as you're carefuller with Droplet. She's not some toy for you to enjoy!" To make his speech add up to nothing, Droplet gives out a really stupid-sounding word and his name. "Just be... more cautious or something." His eyes close, and Droplet gives out a loud sneeze. Her snout must be big enough, because Diggins darts up again. His meaningful words also add up to nothing when I remember his tropical, orange, bright clothing.
"Let me help you with your daddy position!" I pipe up. Before he can stop me, I run to the side, slap him on the back with extra force, and burst through the metal door with the two papers safely tucked into my shirt. They're very crinkly to my skin.
And as I guessed, a loud shout of "Diiiiinnooooooo!" flies outta the room I came from. But I've already escaped for the shouts to matter. Once I reach the edge of the hallway and into the booth area of the Fossil Center, I reach out for the card left on the purple surface and resume my mad dash to the opening on the right. No way am I going into that place anytime soon. Not with the volcano I started in the small chamber to the side. What a hothead Diggins can be.
With a snort, Droplet's talking again. So.
Sooooooo.
Looks like we've escaped the hands of the guy that never made me a krona again, like the jerk he is.
I bob my head up and down unhelpfully. Yup yup, agent fish-breath. With a raspy and already-tired laugh, I slow my movements. Annnnd now I'm tired.
She snorts again, watery eyes gleaming like cold ice. Yup yup, agent monotone-coloring.
Though it's been around a week since I'd done that fun run with all the other robbed ones of medals, my limbs still refuse to work right. They're a bit wobbly around the edges and my whole body is a bit deprived of working right. It's annoying to not-run around, especially in times like when Rosie decides to ditch me in the middle of the "oh-so scary" rain storm. She should be used to those if Greenhorn Plains is always so soggy and nearby. But I won't argue long as my legs don't fall apart in the middle of the night. I should heal or something, right?
Taking a stiff trod, I lift my legs up and down and shuffle towards the pink booth on the dirt and grass and flowers, the monster, further out. I don't need anything else while I've got Droplet, my gear, and the card. It'll make sure I go to this dig site that only the wonderful wonderful level two fighters can be at. This'll either be exciting or stupid. That reminds me: I trust Rosie failed the level-up battle. Not only would that be funny, but I'd lose her finally. Which would be such a relief. Total.
"Beth?" I grumble casually at the boring, brown-haired girl as she applies lip gloss onto her plain mouth. She turns around from the pink wood and gives me a bored, stencil-straight face before dusting off her yellow jumpsuit pallidly and punching in a button on the pink booth behind her. Further out, under the pink umbrella to the side, Sue shakes as usual and awkwardly shiver-straightens her red hair. That orange jumpsuit still makes her appear as a fruit rather than human, a touch I like from Diggins.
"Whatever, dweeb," she mumbles, loud and off-handed. With that, Beth returns her makeup to a dull, gray purse and tugs out her nail filer. I'll never understand her.
I lamely walk onto the shiny, white vessel that'll take me to this next dig site. From what I remember, it's called Knotwood Forest or another. Sounds lovely, which by that I mean lots of giant, boring planks of wood. At least I heard this place is literally filled with a giant majority of fire-elemental fossils. These are the beasts that Droplet puts out like a birthday candle. Literally. And therefore the next level-up battle will be easy, yadda yadda yadda. We should have some fun here, if I do say so myself.
"Dino! Long-time-no-see, eh?" Oh no. But when I turn around, there he stands with that limp, straw hat and stringy, brown hair. Not to mention that incredibly, stupidly tacky, tropical shirt and shorts he always wears. Gee, he'd only need a lab coat to nearly match Diggins. How I hate you, Captain Creepy Travers. "So, Dino, found any v-raptor fossils?"
I jolt back into those harmfully creepy eyes and long, thin chin. "Um. What."
He gives a long, creepy laugh. I'm sorry or whatever, it's not my fault Travers is so lanky and weird and has a tropical and almost-nasal voice. "Remember? Ya told me your favorite vivosaur's a v-raptor! And so I was wondering if ya got 'im yet. I'll take it as a no then?"
Your favorite vivosaur isn't krona? When did you decide this? When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me it all was a conspi-
Quit your blubbering! I slightly shake my head, still winded from the walk and trying to discard the urge to toss my complaining water creep into the ocean for a good, long eternity. After forcing my olive-colored hands tightly clamped shut, to further warn myself on what a stupid idea it'd be to toss my only vivosaur overboard, I glimpse up at Travers. His creepily warm, brown eyes are still strong and light with happiness- happiness I'd love to chuck over the edge of the boat. That'd be funny.
"Um. No. No v-raptors yet," I mumble to the shiny, white floor, feeling the nip of a vivosaur's sharp tooth cave into my leg. Stupid. I quickly wipe off the tiny drips of blood that attempt to leak out of my pocket and bite back a scowl.
He gives another creepy, long smile. "Well then it looks like I'll be of some assistance. But that's funny, kinda. I'm guessing you only used your given spinax and shanshan to beat Wendy, then. I'm guessing that's what you did to me, but I don't got much'va memory to remember now. Just 'stick and pole,' eh?" Was that some kind of... boating joke? I'm gonna take the safe side and ignore it. "Here, kid."
And just like that, a crumbly rock passes in front of my bowed-down head. I immediately whip back into a more Dino position, scoop up the crumbles, and frantically shove the thing into my case. This almost pulls the letters from the inside of my shirt. In a fluttered panic I push the gray fabric down and glare at it more bravely than I feel to make sure it knows where to stay. If Travers found the letters... he doesn't even remember I'm the kid with the krona. That'd fail miserably.
I bet the kid's so overjoyed to have the one vivosaur that makes the wor-
Oh dear spitballs. My waggle-toothed monster is jealous.
I am not, you underfed vermin! Just look at that hair, if anything. You're mammal scum!
Am not! You're... Of course I'm the one to get interrupted by the loud throat-clearing of Travers.
"Yep. You're in tune with them vivosaurs alright. Anyways, now that we've got that over with, we're here!" He raises his hands up high like a creepy idol and points out. I realize that I hadn't even noticed the boat was moving this whole time. Wow. Droplet's doing something, that's for sure. "Come on, Dino! Go on!" With a bow that forces his floppy hair and hat over, Travers gestures out towards land.
I hop out of the white, shiny vessel. The grass. It's not grass. Too many red and yellow and orange splotches. Gosh. Flowers every freaking place. Seriously. Standing in a swamp of hotheaded flowers is I. Crazy how many flowers sprout here. Not only that, but you'd think that with those few white flowers scattered about there'd be some pink buds or another. But no; just these reds and oranges and yellows of all these different textures and hues and tints lie around. I can't even see whatever grass I feel. It's a flower overload. A total domination of all flower kind. Too many flowers.
Dude. Know that thing you got from Diggins earlier? I pull out the circular disc. The sonar I was supposed to use on Greenhorn Plains. I stare at the dark screen. Yeah, that. Dino. You gotta, like, touch the button on the side. With a flourish of nothing, I tap the yellow button on the side. And the screen, like, lights up. The first thing that comes to mind is Frig-mas colors on a string of lights. But after that the screen emits a slight ping noise, more green lights show up, these simple dots on areas around the sonar. Oh my gosh. What. Did. You. Do.
My eyes bulge out and run over the clear surface crazily. Lots of green lights springing up isn't very natural. And as I smack the button and slowly move around, the dots come closer. A bit of memory drills into me for forgetting about this after the Greasy Joe scam. But whatever. At least I've gotten this done.
A part of me tugs at my conscience when I reach a point on the sonar in reality. It's overgrown with the flowers, and that stupid piece is all like "don't be so heartless Dino" but why should I listen to a bunch of pansies? So with a slam into the ground, the metal of my pickaxe chews into dirt and flower. I expect the petals and everything to fall apart, but no. These vibrant things swerve around my pickaxe and don't get demolished. I get a bit distracted by these creeps and start to drill at them, since they're nothing like Ms. Nosh's flowers, which were killed almost every day by this handsome and trouble-making kid with spiky, gray hair. The flowers really hate me because they stay alive. "I don't like you," I grumble into the dirt. The petals flip at me in a semi-wink. Must be a flower thing.
I slap my attention from those cool-but-creepy flowers and grind the metal pickaxe curve into the first hole with the stick end. After doing more grinding-and-lifting a few times, I quickly toss my pickaxe aside and down my fingers into the dark hole in the ground. I have to tug out some weed or something and shovel out stray dirt mounds until my nails thunk against the cool, dusty rock. Before anyone can think of somehow pocketing my treasured treasure, I shove the new find into my case, spit on my hands, and rub them together. Nobody will ever be able to tell that I've dug up some cool stuff. Except for maybe the fact that my nails still have dirt, but almost every fighter has that, so I'm safe. Then again, almost every fighter also has dirt-stained hands, so either way I'd have been fine. Oh well.
Dig up something else, you slow creep! Droplet complains loudly, and since I'd rather not get bitten again and have to get more blood off my leg, I tug out my sonar from the ground -which was nearly smothered in flowers- and tap the little side button again. I scan the disc's screen, plucking up the stick on my pickaxe. With a bit of show-off, I slam the pickaxe into the ground only for my aim to miss by like four feet and the metal on the edge of the stick to not stick in the ground. What kind of pickaxe does that? Before Droplet can make some obnoxious comment, I re-straighten my shirt, pick up the pickaxe again, and dig in a more... correct way.
Huh. I never knew how satisfying it felt to shove a stick into the ground and uncover some old bones. Or how... uplifting? Maybe righteous? True? I'm not sure, but a good feeling pops out of my heart when I dig up the bones. Or jewel rocks. Or even the normal rocks. I really can't tell the difference from anything. I think my favorite part of all this digging would be how the dirt seems to fill up the open, gaping holes I'd split into the soil. And it's seamless too. No way to tell where anyone's dug before. A bit funky, but then again, we're made to fossil fight. Dig. Stuff.
Sometimes I'd look up or cover my face with a dirty hand. When I finally stare out into the air, I notice something even more awkward in this world than those flowers. The sky of this Knothead Meadow -Knotwood Forest, goes my ungrateful water-mutt- is partly sliced away by the many, different trees past this little meadow entrance. But man, the sky's a lot like those flowers. All covered by rainbow hues and stuff. I have not a slight idea where that Travers creep took me, but he knows some pretty cool skies. I never even knew the atmosphere could be more than that tired, stretched, gray-blue coloring. My lucky head fossils, it's breathtaking. Seriously. The mixed mediums of the rich reds, somber oranges, streaky yellows and even a few pale, puffy, white clouds sure is sweet. Makes me wonder where Maia Island took a ditch turn. Their pink, darn it. Their pink.
Once my case is crammed with rocks and I get the idea time's been passing, I collapse into a random clump of flowers. The sweat and dirt covering my olive-colored skin doesn't feel too itchy underneath all the petals and bright colors. Gosh. Never seen so many colors in Maia Island. Pink, pink, pink pink pink. I'm starting to think that those guys we heard about from Ms. Nosh -weren't they the Ancients? Those super-old spirits that incorporate Vivaldi-Isles or whatever and are old vivosaurs- forgot about a few places. Hint hint, you stupid dead things, come help the old orphanage lady out. Pink is too much.
Not sure when this started, but the prickly feeling of someone watching me starts to itch a bit. By now, the coarse feel has evolved into a burning in my face muscles. With a groan, I slump out of the flowers -feeling a little more than kind of embarrassed while I shake out the flower petals- and get up, gray eyes blinking angrily. Who disturbed my personal flower sleeping time? But all I see are a cloud of flowers from further, too far for me to care, floating around like ribbons. That doesn't quell the feeling of being-watched, of course.
"Dino! You made it too?" Suddenly I wanna run away and hide, but the tap of pink fingers on my shoulder doesn't help me escape. Her magenta eyes stare into mine in a pinkish way, and her translucent long-sleeve still shimmers lightly. My only feel of comfort in staring down that demon is that she doesn't have a hat still. Her pink bobs of hair still flow out freely under nothing but air. I'm still winner.
I think the best part about Rosie coming is that now I have a way of escape. "Uh. Good seeing you but-" I break off and make a mad, streaming run towards that boat. My one mean of getting away from the girl.
"But you... Dino!"
Quickly I swipe a final look back at the girl with the pink outfit and blown-out, bubblegum-pink hair strands flung from her glob. "Uh." I have to close my eyes and think for a moment before an idea strikes me. "I'm having tea with Dad!" She doesn't know my parents are dead, so whatever. It'll keep her busy for awhile. But then again I bet she's buddies with that Diggins and therefore will kill me later. But that can wait.
I expertly fling myself into one of the white seats in Travers's ship and start screaming at him. "Drive creep, drive! Hurry! This is life-or-death!" One of my sayings must've swayed him, because once my voice has died the engine's already grumbling. We're already treading through the vibrant sheen of sunset water, another thing I didn't notice before on Maia Island.
The ship finally skids to a halt over rapids and I leap from the deck, scraping my knees on the gravel in Vivosaur Island's main pathway. I plow through the resort area until I'm at that right building. Once inside the giant, wooden doors, I scurry up the elevator on the right and through that hallway towards my room until finally inside the walls of my own chamber. For good measures, I lock the wooden door tightly. Then, taking a sweep around the area, hop to the right and settle on my bed.
The two letters still safely secured in my shirt get shoved under the wooden frame. I'll read them later. Staring out from on my bed, I can see stars poking from the balcony outside and get up to slide those doors closed too. Now only I can get out, since Droplet here doesn't have hands to unlock the door with. Her flippers can't save her. But it's not like she has anything better to do.
I unceremoniously dump my gear onto the ground and curl up on my bed, not feeling much for cleaning up by that giant fountain outside or getting under my covers. I could always force Droplet to clean up my dirty state later if needed. But that does bring up a lecture from Diggins... all the way back in the morning, wasn't it? But I can worry about that later. I'll explore in those Knotwood Forests and uncover my new finds later, not to mention that second letter I have yet to read. Tomorrow shall bring a bunch of stuff. Hope I can get to sleep.
Probably will. The body of warm, wet droplets already fell on top of my bed. Freaking krona. Well... freaking snuggle buddy.
As long as you're carefuller with Droplet. She's not some toy for you to enjoy!
Me: I dunno, but I really enjoy adding those little quotes at the bottom of each chapter. They do mean something, I mean, something more than those little tips in them. Like how last chapter there was something on how much worse the fighting will get, and this one has a piece of not-making-Droplet-a-tool. But besides that, see what the chapter's name represents nowww? Yes. Something a bit suspicious about Maia Island being drab. Like Dino! -dodges another lamp-
Anyways, with all seriousness (maybe)...
SCHOOL IS OUT THIS FRIDAY! :D I'm planning on making three chapters a week! Yes. One every two days. Just wait. :P I think this and The Alone Champion will be significantly updated if not finished by the end of my three months, so woo. That's nice.
Thank gosh for people like you. Love all your support and reviews crazily.
