The next morning, Peggy Powler only picked at her breakfast as the supper last night was still heavy in her stomach.
Being half-Fae, the little Witch was accustomed to grabbing a bite on the move and even then, the food would be sparing.
Still, she showed willing and thanked Ma Gurnard for the unsalted porridge.
"What has the day waitin' for yer', Miss Powler?" the rotund matriarch asked as she cleared the table of where her men had
been. Pa Gurnard had risen before the dawn had broken and his sons had followed not long after. The elder spending the day
fishing and finishing off an order for candles that the Barnett family had asked for. Jessie- under instruction from his mother,
had gone to gather apples from a nearby wild orchard, whilst Samuel was collecting sunberries from an area close to where
Peggy had pulled John Potter's boat ashore.
The borrower of that craft smiled at the woman rolling towards the kitchen and recalling an act she'd performed the previous
evening, she rose and followed Ma Gurnard into the realm of steaming pots and a glowing stove. "Ah' have a confession te'
make..." the Last Witch of Underhill admitted cautiously as she surveyed the homely domain of a woman not much taller than
herself, "...Ah borrowed a hoss-shoe from the shed fur' a task Ah' believe will be waitin' fur' me further down the trail".
Ma Gurnard nodded without looking at their guest and replied "There's somethin' on this island yer' think is takin' folk and I
cannot help yer' there, Miss Powler. But if you think it best to use that Devil-shoe to find the critter, then good luck to yer and
watch yer' back, Camden Bight are a strange stock...". Plunging her hands into a sink full of Cockle-ash and kettle-hot water,
the no-nonsense battle-axe added "...Maybe the thing yer' chase is hidin' there". Again, it was a statement, not a question.
Peggy adjusted her satchel and was about to give her leave when something that had been said the previous evening caught
the Witch's net of investigation. "Who was Lillian?" she asked and checked one of the pockets in her poncho for the borrowed
item she'd mentioned. It was there, along with a bundle of twine used for lobster-pot repairs.
Samuel's mother looked over her shoulder and scrutinised the little bare-footed sorceress fidgeting in her seldom-washed
shawl, to many -even Tawny Codswell, the look was daunting. "Now she was a strange one, that lassie..." Mrs Gurnard's tone
changed slightly now that Peggy had touched on a subject that intrigued the scrubber of used breakfast bowls.
"...Would roam the woods at night after her grand-children fell foul to the sea -she would. Call out like a madwoman and even
make water right in front of whoever saw her". Ma Gurnard's wrung on her hands on her apron and struggled not to show that
she was indulging herself in the woes of those who's senses had gone awry. Was it a way of showing a pride that she had the
ability to harness three grown males...? Peggy didn't judge, instead she listened.
"Crazy as an outhouse-rat -my man would say and I remember a couple of winters ago, him and our Jessie volunteered to
search for her with Lillian's husband. Told me Chester Caldwell -that's her fella, cried right through the night as they beat the
bushes for her." Ma Gurnard raised her eyebrows to end her report on the behaviour of the grandparents who'd lost the only
possibility of immortality.
With a sigh and a waddle to prepare her family's midday meal, a final comment on this mysterious woman came in the form
of a whisper. "Aye, Lillian Caldwell -Herne bless her, was away with the fairies and her death was needless, if yer' pardon
me-slack babble". With the last of the crockery steaming dry on the draining-board, Peggy wished Ma Gurnard a good day
and left the portly mother of the handsome Jessie to her thoughts.
...................................................
Moosa was a dragon... sort of. Samuel had finished his chores and after assuring his Ma that he wouldn't be late for his noon
victuals, had agreed to show the little Witch where this supposedly-harmless beastie resided. About an hour later, Peggy and
the boy arrived at a pool surrounded by bushes and the uniform-sized trees of Murdigon.
Moosa's home wasn't much to look at and with the clarity due to the porous rocks that made up the subterranean aquifers, the
inquisitive necromancer couldn't see how anything could remain hidden in such clear water. A small school of blue-coloured fish
seemed to struggle on which side of their habitat they preferred, although the curtain of bubbles ascending from the the carpet
of chick-grass that clung to most of the surfaces within the pool seemed to be an excuse for their constant choosing problem.
Copying her guide, Peggy carefully climbed one of the stunted trees that leaned towards the pond and watched Samuel for any
hints on how to draw this would-be water-Kelpie from the crystal-clear depths. After settling himself in a crook of a solid branch,
Samuel fished out something from his pocket and dropped it into the pool, the small splash caused ripples that mimicked the
bubble's undulations and then all was quiet again.
Making sure she wouldn't accidently become food for the elusive serpent, the thigh-displaying Shaman adjusted herself to a
more secure setting on a larger branch, before adjusting her attire to be more modest. "Where is the bugg... where is Moosa?"
she hissed loud enough for Samuel to hear and hoped her correction had gone unheard by the lad reaching into his pocket
again.
As the second sunberry broke the surface of the pool, a dark shape suddenly appeared from the opposite side from where
the two observers were perched. Peggy stared at the long-necked creature aiming directly to where the kid had dropped the
fruits and realised by its four flippers and stubbed tail that Moosa was what they call a 'Soap Dragon', a title derived from a
century-dead explorer named Conville Seuss.
...................................................
When real Dragons were first discovered in the great Mathas forests and then later, inhabiting the massive swamplands in the
southern areas, some of those who knew of the power these cunning creatures were capable of, attempted to catalogue those
found as more and more people branched out across the land.
For example, when Ravenwell County was being established, three of the scaly beasts were found to be able to mimic human
speech, but this didn't mean they could be tamed. That important fact was arrived at after a family of four were gobbled-up when
they approached the bayou where these monsters roosted. Most Dragons tend to stay with the twenty-feet-in-length range, but
some have reported brutes up to thirty feet long. They can outrun a man easily and probably keep up with a horse for possibly
a full league.
Regardless of what legends say, Dragons don't fly and technically, can't shoot flames from their mouths. The venom is deemed
combustible when allowed to ferment for a day or so, but not incendiary directly from the Parotid gland where the poison is
stored in a Dragon. There are other facts that might pique the interest of those who may dabble in the world of these intelligent
Draco, but it's not very comfortable sitting in a tree with a breeze blowing up one's hiney. Just sayin'.
Now oddly enough, the first 'false' Dragon -or what was agreed to be related to the Draco species, was found swimming in a
cave-pool out in the desert of Wildhorn County. This was almost two hundred years-ago and the learned scholars of that time
scoured other areas that may've contained this anomaly to what they'd believed was a settled identification undertaking.
A total of one hundred and seventy-three were found and apart from variations in colour, they all exhibited a mild temperament,
but shied away from human beings and tended live in almost the most barren of places. Conville Seuss -a noted adventurer
and natural historian, branded them 'Soap Dragons' due to the expression 'to soft-soap' or deceive.
No information was available regarding the sunberries being part of the diet of these placid creatures, but we can take it as fact
that they tend to graze on chick-grass.
...................................................
Peggy watched the dark-brown Dragon glide underwater and snap at the slowly-sinking treats and accepting the water-beast
held no peril for anyone venturing too close to the pool, half of the Soap Dragon's audience quietly clambered down from their
temporary roost. "Aye, Moosa's a canny pet" she said softly and noticed the the animal's reaction to her voice.
Then seeing the crestfallen Samuel emulate her gymnastics -with more agility, mind you, the lad offered an attempted smile
to show his good faith. " So you're happy that he's not your water-Kelpie then?" he asked hopefully and his grin widened when
Peggy nodded her agreement. Just as the pair turned to leave, Moosa stuck his head out of the water and gave his verdict too.
"Belphy!" was the sound and to those who eat and sleep in Byefleet Howe, Camden Bight and The Narrows, such a silly noise
would be something to guffaw at and accept that Soap Dragons are docile creatures that sometimes wish to communicate across
species. But to Peggy Powler, she recognised her own name in the language of these arcane animals.
The surprised Witch held the boy's shoulder as she rummaged around in her mind for the appropriate words to reply, but it was
Samuel who spoke next. "Moosa means well, he's just happy with the sunberries I brought him" he explained proudly to the rapt
sorceress gazing towards the pool.
"Belphy my-my benga, bunnie-way..." Peggy gibbered as the startled lad looked on. " Belphy pargonay bunnie-way tell douf?"
The smooth features of the serpent became clearer as Moosa extended his neck further from the surface and large dark eyes
sought to understand the situation. "Bunnie-way sed douf glay-way manna" the beast carefully pronounced and slowly submerged
backinto the world it knew.
"Whey yer' bugg..." Peggy began and remembered who was with her. "Whey, Ah'll go te' our back-door" she exclaimed to the
gawping youngster. "Now, we'd never not be late fur' yer fodder, me-lad, yer' Ma will have my skin iffn' Ah keep yer' any longer"
she added and steered the confused boy back the way they came.
The only talk from the little spellbinder on the way home was to ask if Samuel was certain the tallow-deliverer came tomorrow
and the rest of the chat came from the boy who had witnessed a magical palaver between his pet Soap Dragon and the woman
in the big hat. It seemed to Samuel, the world outside of Murdigon had lots more for him to discover.
Being half-Fae, the little Witch was accustomed to grabbing a bite on the move and even then, the food would be sparing.
Still, she showed willing and thanked Ma Gurnard for the unsalted porridge.
"What has the day waitin' for yer', Miss Powler?" the rotund matriarch asked as she cleared the table of where her men had
been. Pa Gurnard had risen before the dawn had broken and his sons had followed not long after. The elder spending the day
fishing and finishing off an order for candles that the Barnett family had asked for. Jessie- under instruction from his mother,
had gone to gather apples from a nearby wild orchard, whilst Samuel was collecting sunberries from an area close to where
Peggy had pulled John Potter's boat ashore.
The borrower of that craft smiled at the woman rolling towards the kitchen and recalling an act she'd performed the previous
evening, she rose and followed Ma Gurnard into the realm of steaming pots and a glowing stove. "Ah' have a confession te'
make..." the Last Witch of Underhill admitted cautiously as she surveyed the homely domain of a woman not much taller than
herself, "...Ah borrowed a hoss-shoe from the shed fur' a task Ah' believe will be waitin' fur' me further down the trail".
Ma Gurnard nodded without looking at their guest and replied "There's somethin' on this island yer' think is takin' folk and I
cannot help yer' there, Miss Powler. But if you think it best to use that Devil-shoe to find the critter, then good luck to yer and
watch yer' back, Camden Bight are a strange stock...". Plunging her hands into a sink full of Cockle-ash and kettle-hot water,
the no-nonsense battle-axe added "...Maybe the thing yer' chase is hidin' there". Again, it was a statement, not a question.
Peggy adjusted her satchel and was about to give her leave when something that had been said the previous evening caught
the Witch's net of investigation. "Who was Lillian?" she asked and checked one of the pockets in her poncho for the borrowed
item she'd mentioned. It was there, along with a bundle of twine used for lobster-pot repairs.
Samuel's mother looked over her shoulder and scrutinised the little bare-footed sorceress fidgeting in her seldom-washed
shawl, to many -even Tawny Codswell, the look was daunting. "Now she was a strange one, that lassie..." Mrs Gurnard's tone
changed slightly now that Peggy had touched on a subject that intrigued the scrubber of used breakfast bowls.
"...Would roam the woods at night after her grand-children fell foul to the sea -she would. Call out like a madwoman and even
make water right in front of whoever saw her". Ma Gurnard's wrung on her hands on her apron and struggled not to show that
she was indulging herself in the woes of those who's senses had gone awry. Was it a way of showing a pride that she had the
ability to harness three grown males...? Peggy didn't judge, instead she listened.
"Crazy as an outhouse-rat -my man would say and I remember a couple of winters ago, him and our Jessie volunteered to
search for her with Lillian's husband. Told me Chester Caldwell -that's her fella, cried right through the night as they beat the
bushes for her." Ma Gurnard raised her eyebrows to end her report on the behaviour of the grandparents who'd lost the only
possibility of immortality.
With a sigh and a waddle to prepare her family's midday meal, a final comment on this mysterious woman came in the form
of a whisper. "Aye, Lillian Caldwell -Herne bless her, was away with the fairies and her death was needless, if yer' pardon
me-slack babble". With the last of the crockery steaming dry on the draining-board, Peggy wished Ma Gurnard a good day
and left the portly mother of the handsome Jessie to her thoughts.
...................................................
Moosa was a dragon... sort of. Samuel had finished his chores and after assuring his Ma that he wouldn't be late for his noon
victuals, had agreed to show the little Witch where this supposedly-harmless beastie resided. About an hour later, Peggy and
the boy arrived at a pool surrounded by bushes and the uniform-sized trees of Murdigon.
Moosa's home wasn't much to look at and with the clarity due to the porous rocks that made up the subterranean aquifers, the
inquisitive necromancer couldn't see how anything could remain hidden in such clear water. A small school of blue-coloured fish
seemed to struggle on which side of their habitat they preferred, although the curtain of bubbles ascending from the the carpet
of chick-grass that clung to most of the surfaces within the pool seemed to be an excuse for their constant choosing problem.
Copying her guide, Peggy carefully climbed one of the stunted trees that leaned towards the pond and watched Samuel for any
hints on how to draw this would-be water-Kelpie from the crystal-clear depths. After settling himself in a crook of a solid branch,
Samuel fished out something from his pocket and dropped it into the pool, the small splash caused ripples that mimicked the
bubble's undulations and then all was quiet again.
Making sure she wouldn't accidently become food for the elusive serpent, the thigh-displaying Shaman adjusted herself to a
more secure setting on a larger branch, before adjusting her attire to be more modest. "Where is the bugg... where is Moosa?"
she hissed loud enough for Samuel to hear and hoped her correction had gone unheard by the lad reaching into his pocket
again.
As the second sunberry broke the surface of the pool, a dark shape suddenly appeared from the opposite side from where
the two observers were perched. Peggy stared at the long-necked creature aiming directly to where the kid had dropped the
fruits and realised by its four flippers and stubbed tail that Moosa was what they call a 'Soap Dragon', a title derived from a
century-dead explorer named Conville Seuss.
...................................................
When real Dragons were first discovered in the great Mathas forests and then later, inhabiting the massive swamplands in the
southern areas, some of those who knew of the power these cunning creatures were capable of, attempted to catalogue those
found as more and more people branched out across the land.
For example, when Ravenwell County was being established, three of the scaly beasts were found to be able to mimic human
speech, but this didn't mean they could be tamed. That important fact was arrived at after a family of four were gobbled-up when
they approached the bayou where these monsters roosted. Most Dragons tend to stay with the twenty-feet-in-length range, but
some have reported brutes up to thirty feet long. They can outrun a man easily and probably keep up with a horse for possibly
a full league.
Regardless of what legends say, Dragons don't fly and technically, can't shoot flames from their mouths. The venom is deemed
combustible when allowed to ferment for a day or so, but not incendiary directly from the Parotid gland where the poison is
stored in a Dragon. There are other facts that might pique the interest of those who may dabble in the world of these intelligent
Draco, but it's not very comfortable sitting in a tree with a breeze blowing up one's hiney. Just sayin'.
Now oddly enough, the first 'false' Dragon -or what was agreed to be related to the Draco species, was found swimming in a
cave-pool out in the desert of Wildhorn County. This was almost two hundred years-ago and the learned scholars of that time
scoured other areas that may've contained this anomaly to what they'd believed was a settled identification undertaking.
A total of one hundred and seventy-three were found and apart from variations in colour, they all exhibited a mild temperament,
but shied away from human beings and tended live in almost the most barren of places. Conville Seuss -a noted adventurer
and natural historian, branded them 'Soap Dragons' due to the expression 'to soft-soap' or deceive.
No information was available regarding the sunberries being part of the diet of these placid creatures, but we can take it as fact
that they tend to graze on chick-grass.
...................................................
Peggy watched the dark-brown Dragon glide underwater and snap at the slowly-sinking treats and accepting the water-beast
held no peril for anyone venturing too close to the pool, half of the Soap Dragon's audience quietly clambered down from their
temporary roost. "Aye, Moosa's a canny pet" she said softly and noticed the the animal's reaction to her voice.
Then seeing the crestfallen Samuel emulate her gymnastics -with more agility, mind you, the lad offered an attempted smile
to show his good faith. " So you're happy that he's not your water-Kelpie then?" he asked hopefully and his grin widened when
Peggy nodded her agreement. Just as the pair turned to leave, Moosa stuck his head out of the water and gave his verdict too.
"Belphy!" was the sound and to those who eat and sleep in Byefleet Howe, Camden Bight and The Narrows, such a silly noise
would be something to guffaw at and accept that Soap Dragons are docile creatures that sometimes wish to communicate across
species. But to Peggy Powler, she recognised her own name in the language of these arcane animals.
The surprised Witch held the boy's shoulder as she rummaged around in her mind for the appropriate words to reply, but it was
Samuel who spoke next. "Moosa means well, he's just happy with the sunberries I brought him" he explained proudly to the rapt
sorceress gazing towards the pool.
"Belphy my-my benga, bunnie-way..." Peggy gibbered as the startled lad looked on. " Belphy pargonay bunnie-way tell douf?"
The smooth features of the serpent became clearer as Moosa extended his neck further from the surface and large dark eyes
sought to understand the situation. "Bunnie-way sed douf glay-way manna" the beast carefully pronounced and slowly submerged
backinto the world it knew.
"Whey yer' bugg..." Peggy began and remembered who was with her. "Whey, Ah'll go te' our back-door" she exclaimed to the
gawping youngster. "Now, we'd never not be late fur' yer fodder, me-lad, yer' Ma will have my skin iffn' Ah keep yer' any longer"
she added and steered the confused boy back the way they came.
The only talk from the little spellbinder on the way home was to ask if Samuel was certain the tallow-deliverer came tomorrow
and the rest of the chat came from the boy who had witnessed a magical palaver between his pet Soap Dragon and the woman
in the big hat. It seemed to Samuel, the world outside of Murdigon had lots more for him to discover.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.