The most terrifying thing is a sudden silence.
A speck of mud slid slowly down Count Brand's bedraggled feathers. With a stiff CLICK, his neck laboriously turned to face the toppled oak tree.
Had that attack landed on him, he would've been blown to smithereens.
He glanced down at the little Slime blinking innocently at his feet, then leaped back in terror, landing on a nearby rock.
He shuddered, his feathers quivering all over. He covered his beak with a black wing and coughed lightly.
"Ahem, well... Lord Slime, you are every bit the lord of this swamp. You remind me of myself in my prime. Now that we've made our introductions..."
"I have just recalled several urgent matters back in my territory—matters concerning the very survival of the world—that require my immediate attention. I shall trouble you no further! Arthur! My follower! We're leaving!"
