Post by Daeiel on Apr 15, 2009 15:47:19 GMT -6
All right, so, I wasn't exactly sure how well this would work, seeing as Narnia's world has ended for eternity....but, then, one never does find out what happened to Burnt Island in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (my favorite!), one only has the assumptions that the indigenous people might have been Dwarves, and that the island might have been laid waste by the Dragon of Dragon Island.
But what really happened?
Perhaps this will enlighten us....
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"Don't........move......" hissed fifteen-year-old Dreius. The target, a fat old mountain goat, munched on, un-cognizant of his predators.
"I'm not!" spat the much younger counterpart; Izak, a boy of ten.
"Yes you are!" countered Dreius, "You're scaring the goats!"
"No, you're scaring the goats!"
Dreius rolled his eyes in aggravation, turning from his irksome hunting partner and back on to the desired target. "Keep it down, will you? By the Lion, you really can shout!"
"You shout worser!" Izak was positively indignant.
"Worser's not a word!"
"It is so!"
"That shows how much you know. It is not!"
"DA!" screamed Izak.
The remarkable banshee-like screech emanating from the young boy in the brush set the goat off-rights, causing the old creature to amble off, which, due to his corpulent form, was equivalent to a full-on sprint.
"Oh...." Dreius refrained from using some of the more colourful words in his fifteen-year-old vocabulary, as Izak's Da was on his way. "Now look what you've done!"
"It was your fault!" retorted Izak.
"Was not!" Try as he might, Dreius had never been able to muster the maturity expected for a boy of his age.
"It's your fault, your fault, your fault!!"
"Stop that!" Dreius, rather than fire off some of his exemplary wit, chose to whack his younger, infuriating cousin upside the head.
As far as the youth was concerned, physical combat was the only way this argument could be resolved.
Izak agreed whole-heartedly.
The boy leapt at Dreius, locked his gangly arms around his skinny neck, and sent them both tumbling out of the brush and down the hill-side.
A long, bruising fall down a hill-side is enough to put most everyone out of spirits (unless one is a masichist), and Dreius was a bit quicker out-of-spirits than most curmudgeons. "You idiot! You absolute idiot!"
"Da, Dreius' calling me names!"
"Oh, you baby. Calling for Da won't always work!"
Izak's petulant frown turned into a euphoric smile as his father emerged from his workshop. "It did this time!"
But what really happened?
Perhaps this will enlighten us....
----------------------------------------------------------------
"Don't........move......" hissed fifteen-year-old Dreius. The target, a fat old mountain goat, munched on, un-cognizant of his predators.
"I'm not!" spat the much younger counterpart; Izak, a boy of ten.
"Yes you are!" countered Dreius, "You're scaring the goats!"
"No, you're scaring the goats!"
Dreius rolled his eyes in aggravation, turning from his irksome hunting partner and back on to the desired target. "Keep it down, will you? By the Lion, you really can shout!"
"You shout worser!" Izak was positively indignant.
"Worser's not a word!"
"It is so!"
"That shows how much you know. It is not!"
"DA!" screamed Izak.
The remarkable banshee-like screech emanating from the young boy in the brush set the goat off-rights, causing the old creature to amble off, which, due to his corpulent form, was equivalent to a full-on sprint.
"Oh...." Dreius refrained from using some of the more colourful words in his fifteen-year-old vocabulary, as Izak's Da was on his way. "Now look what you've done!"
"It was your fault!" retorted Izak.
"Was not!" Try as he might, Dreius had never been able to muster the maturity expected for a boy of his age.
"It's your fault, your fault, your fault!!"
"Stop that!" Dreius, rather than fire off some of his exemplary wit, chose to whack his younger, infuriating cousin upside the head.
As far as the youth was concerned, physical combat was the only way this argument could be resolved.
Izak agreed whole-heartedly.
The boy leapt at Dreius, locked his gangly arms around his skinny neck, and sent them both tumbling out of the brush and down the hill-side.
A long, bruising fall down a hill-side is enough to put most everyone out of spirits (unless one is a masichist), and Dreius was a bit quicker out-of-spirits than most curmudgeons. "You idiot! You absolute idiot!"
"Da, Dreius' calling me names!"
"Oh, you baby. Calling for Da won't always work!"
Izak's petulant frown turned into a euphoric smile as his father emerged from his workshop. "It did this time!"