Fergus Strikes Back

In the blink an me eye, Fergus sprouted.

Never before did this happen. It feels like you are raining. Me feets and arms grew to meet the oncoming Flaming-Os. All the knots in me bark rushed to the tips of my fingers and made little hard fists that knocked the Flaming-Os to pieces. All the cords of bundled roots in me legs stretched and splithered and snithered and tripped the gangly Flaming-Os as they came.

I do not know why this happened, and I do not know why the Plimptons keep such untame beasties. But one thing be an certain: no lavender is worth this trouble, not even Squimmish lavender.

Oh make that two things an certain: I must escape from these no good Plimptons!

Flaming O's ATTACK!

Flaming O's

It was a misfortune that I made this outburst.

The beast of burden that the Plimptons use is the flamingo. But they are also the first line of defense for the great hall.

Trust me, you do not wish to agitate the flamingo...

ENOUGH!

I exploded.

"I WANT LAVENDER!" I cried.

It is difficultish for Fergus to describe what happens exactly when I am cornered like this. I sort of curl into meself like a fist, winding and tightening into a little star (how I wonder what you are!). Butternut used to do this too, for fun. I only do it when I have to.

Then I flick the fist inside of me and I try to make whatever's hurting me fly away.

It worked for the Plimptons, mostly--well, they were too heavy to move, but their Oddzen Ends moved!

But then another problem arose. Luckily, the fistflick is not Fergus's only trick!

Closing in...

Huge they were, and relentless. The nasty Plimptons lurched in at poor Fergus, their fangs drooling and gleaming, hungry for some tender plumpkin flesh...

All I can say is that Fergus Does Not Like To Be Toyed With.

NOT.

AT.

ALL.