"Hail? Go float back into the barrow thou came from!"
Pellador, having retrieved his glasses from the helpful young Blister, looked askance at the black-cloaked ruffian. Hmmmph! His "barrow" constituted an entire mountain, whereas this Undead Upstart obviously hailed from one of those cobbled-together ant-hills on the Downs. Still, wouldn't do to start off the festivities on the wrong foot.
Pellador floated alongside the Wraith, feet trailing languidly through the air six inches off the ground. "Fine form you display with that black robe, good Sir. Almost looks as if you were gliding. Good material, too. Is it Elven?"
Ghost and Wraith glided through a herd of cats, who immediately hissed and retreated into a young fox trotting through the area.
[ September 19, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]
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