(Play: Vale of tears.)
"The Grey Thing? I know of it, but cannot recite it," you reply, then do a double take. Where you talking to a cat? Well… There was the glasses' wearing talking owl, the human sized playing card, and the riddle spouting giant spider… So why not a dog-sized skinny grey cat, with tattoos, one gold earring, and bloodstained large white teeth?
"I believe it goes quite nicely." The cat speaks up, and you regard him. 'With what?' You wanted to ask, but he had already begun the poem.
"There is a Grey Thing that lives in the tree-tops,
None know the horror of its sight,
Save those who meet death in the wilderness,
But one is enabled to see,
To see branches move as its passing,
To hear at times the wail of black laughter,
And to come often upon mystic places,
Places where the thing has just been."
The cat finishes, and his grin becomes wider as he sees your bewildered and nervous face. Covering up the feelings swiftly, you ask…
(What does this mean, and why are you telling me this?" [Go to page 38.])
(Just who are you?" [Turn to page 39.])
("Why are you bothering me with this worthless poem? If you wish to tell me something, then just do so, and stop trying to frighten me. I am not afraid of you." [Turn to page 40.])