Day 43

“Oh no, Glue Pot. Your village disappeared, too?” Gabbie asked.

“Yes. I was, um, out on business, and when I came back, my village was just like Digitalis’s.”

“And when he says ‘out’ he means that he was lost,” Digitalis said. “He has a terrible sense of direction. When he came to Pottestown, he was going the complete opposite route to the Queen. He came all the way from the Seven Isles and didn’t even know.”

“They didn’t need to know that,” Glue Pot said dejectedly. His zebra’s tail swatted at invisible bugs and he clasped his hands together nervously.

“It’s best to know everyone’s faults as well as their positive qualities when in a group,” Digitalis pointed out.

“Says the Lived Being who never left her comfy village,” Tipper grumbled.

“Says the Kitsune who never left his comfy village,” Ginger pointed out.

Tipper narrowed his eyes at Ginger. “Whose side are you on?”

“My own.”

“Anyway, see right there? Tipper wants to seem tough and knowledgeable. Ginger is opportunistic. Glue Pot can’t gallop a straight line. Gabbie gets stuck in her daydreams. Perceval is too kind.” Digitalis pointed to each person as she walked. Lila, Zane, and Alastair exchanged looks. What was Digitalis going to reveal about their own weaknesses? “Zane can’t think outside hard fact. Alastair wants to be a hero. Lila seals up her emotions.”

“Yeah? How about you? You seem to have pin pointed everybody in just an hour or so. Come on. Give us something about you.” Tipper jumped over a sideways tree and was now lifting Zane and Lila over it.

“Me? Isn’t that easy? I have a bad temper! My mom used to call it being overly passionate, but my dad and me knew better. I’m just a hothead.” Digitalis easily jumped over the tree. “Having faults is nothing to be ashamed of. Now that we know everybody’s, those faults won’t surprise us.”

“Um, guys?” Zane said.

“Why are you acting like a know it all? We’ve just met and you think that you have everyone figured out,” Tipper spat.

“Yeah!” Ginger agreed, showing that she was indeed, opportunistic.

“Guuuuys,” Zane urged, drawing out his vowels in desperation.

“I’m just observant. After my Crisis Point, I want to be a illustrator. You have to be observant to do that sort of work.”

“Do you, really?”

“GUYS!” Zane yelped. The party all swung their heads down to Zane. He was holding his sketchbook so tight that his knuckles were rounded and white. “W-w-what is that?” He pointed to a area right behind Digitalis. Slowly, she peeked over her shoulder.

“A Batal,” Perceval growled. His fur puffed up, making the fox creature seem to be twice his usual size.

“No,” Tipper gasped. “No, no, no. Batals do not like groups. They never ever go after parties more than three.”

“This one didn’t get the memo,” said Alastair.

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