Disclaimer: You should know what I own and don't own by now. If you don't then,...blows raspberries aimlessly...you...I don't own any Mark Twain phrases either so...blows raspberries...there...

Chapter 6: Oh Boyl'o boy

Arya sighed, Boys will be boys, and looked over at her companion to see how he was faring.

Orik stared into space, giving the sky occasional dark looks. The once peaceful twilight night had turned gloomy with menacing thunderclouds and frequently loud claps of lightening. He had been sharpening his axe with a threatening air, occasionally throwing out remarks like, "Where in the world has that boy gotten himself now, do you suppose?"

"That boy" was in a daze, a world between unconscious awareness and the kind of sleep that you get from traveling in the back of a beat up pick up truck.

Rain fell down his high angled cheekbones as if someone had been repetitively dumping a bottle of water over his face, and his legs stuck out at awkward angles from their original position, being parallel with his chest.

Eragon stirred, and tried to open his eyes, which were stuck together with water.

He tried sitting up, and gave a loud groan, and his eyes rolled back into his head in pain. He looked down, almost cross-eyed, at his chest, and managed to squeeze out a pained, "Waise heill!"

The flesh knitted together seamlessly, and Eragon stopped throbbing with the tenderness of the sting.

He still looked like a wreck.

Shadows were under his eyes from lack of sleep and bruises dotted his body from where he had hit the rock and where the hail had pummeled him. His wet hair was plastered to his head, making his condition worsen, (the cold was biting), and making him look like that of a starved half-drowned dog with pointy ears.

The migraine Eragon was receiving felt like Roran was delivering one of his signature blows with his hammer to his head.

Eragon's head lolled back so that he could face the sky.

Great, just great, Eragon grumbled to himself, First no more chocolate, then that pointless hike that gets me nowhere, then math problems, a tree, and NOW THIS! ARGHHHH!

Eragon reviewed his situation:

He was stuck. In a pile of rocks. Because he P/O-ed a tree. Because he saw bright colors and had to investigated. Because he looked around after he tasted that fluffy buttery thing. Because he stalked off. Because he had math problems...

Well, Eragon mused, at least I know why I'm here.

He could:

A) Shout for help.

B) Mind call Saphira and explain situation.

C) Stay there and hope somebody gets him.

D) Start up a conversation with the tree.

E) Get Cole out of the wheelbarrow.

F) Work on his Spench accent. (Spanish/French)

G) Ask that girl in the corner if she really is the passionate one. (From the song)

Eragon reviewed his list of choices.

Nah, He thought, I don't want C), because I don't want to stay here. My Spench accent is hopeless, so no F). That girl is not the passionate one, I asked her at Orik's party last week. No G). Cole is such a lazy bum that he shall stay in that wheelbarrow forever. No E).

Eragon thought for a moment and called out, "HELP!"

No answer.

"HELP!"

No answer.

Eragon thought and shouted,

"HELP! HELP! PLEASSSEEEE!"

Again, no answer.

"HELP MEEEEE! PLEASSEEEE! CALL ANYONE! THE FIRE DEPARTMENT, THE MEDIA, TOM CRUISE, THE FBI, THE CSI, THE ROUS's, PLEASE! JUST GET ME HELP!"

Eragon stopped, panting and was well out of breath by now.

And yet still, no answer came.

Eragon's head drooped, I guess the fire dept. is busy in the Burning Plains, and the media is always near Galbatorix. Eragon scowled, Stupid paparazzi lover. I don't think I could rely on Tom Cruise, he's always on some sort of impossible mission. I have no idea where al the rest of those acronyms came from, but I do know that the ROUS's are always being busy...Eragon puzzled, ...Well, being ROUS's.

So much for shouting for help.

"HEY YOU, TREE!" Eragon shouted at the tree, which was very far away.

The tree didn't answer.

Eragon sighed and flicked his mind towards Saphira's presence.

HEY SAPHIRA!

Saphira's voice came back, Little one, where have you been?

Eragon felt guilty at his own stupidness of not contacting her before.

Eragon replied, meekly, like a little child who had been caught with his hand near the cookie jar, Can you come and get me? Eragon showed her a picture of the pile of rocks with him staring dejectedly at the sky.

Saphira, with a touch of amusement in her voice, replied, I'm already there.

Eragon sighed with relief and let his head fall back on the rocks.

R&R. NOW. Pleaseandthankyou.