(no subject)
"Little John!" The door swings open to admit one fleet-footed fox, carrying neither bow nor arrows, but dressed in his habitual green. "Johnny, this..."
He skids to a stop, blinking. This is not the cave behind the waterfall.
"You know," He informs the bar at large, wryly, "That could have been timed a little better, don't you think?"
He skids to a stop, blinking. This is not the cave behind the waterfall.
"You know," He informs the bar at large, wryly, "That could have been timed a little better, don't you think?"