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Switchfoot had been practicing her daytime flying while she and Laird were in Mossflower again. Her guardian wasn't willing to leave her alone or in the care of others just yet so when he traveled out of Fangroot she went with him. Not that this was a horrible thing except for the fact that Switchfoot was, in her opinion, seeing way more daylight than a proper bat should.

However it was not the light of the sun but the garishly bright colors on Bale's clothing that had Switch distracted a moment later, causing her to fail her attempt at a loop. She had seen the pale furred rabbit a few times before when she was at Zephra's. What was it about rabbits and fancy clothes, did they just not know how funny they looked? The little bat swooped closer to investigate the current goings on that had attracted quite the crowd of other young creatures.

Oh great tree now everyone was dressed funny! Although Switchfoot herself now looked rather plain in comparison as she landed. A few twitches of her ears and she caught the call as it went out again explaining what was going on. She didn't know exactly how apparel was going to make her amazing but then again she didn't understand why Laird insisted glowy shoelaces were awesome either so Switch supposed she'd best just trust the adult. Besides, not everyone looked funny, she had to admit as her dark blue eyes scanned the crowd, some of them looked sort of nice.

Determined to join in and not miss out on a chance to be amazing, or at least to find out what other kinds of things were in the little mouse girl's trunk Switchfoot crawled forward until she reached the object in question. It had been well looted already and yet there were still several interesting looking things in it. Sadly most of them did not look suited to her either in colour or shape or the fact that she hung upside down a lot and they'd fall off.

Switch leaned over the edge of the trunk, careful not to fall in since the clothing container itself was helping her stay upright. Without the convenient hands so many others had she relied on the hooks at the tip of her wings to sort items as best she could until something perfect appeared. It was a dark black collar made off.. well some unfortunate beasts hide no doubt and smooth round jewels imbedded in it. It was pretty but not garish and it didn't feel like it would make her too heavy.

"Can someone help me?" Switchfoot had found what she wanted and dragged it up from the depths of the chest but there was no way she could get it around her neck by herself. She would never wish her wings away for the arms of beast but sometimes they'd sure come in handy. Maybe.. maybe there was a magic for that, invisible beast hand magic, she should ask Laird later, he would know.

"Halright kiddos, have a seat, have a seat. Don't push or shove, don't pinch or pull... Just sit. That's right. Now... who here wants to see a story? A wonderful story about a prince and a princess, who live in a castle and are happy until a wicked queen comes and makes life terrible for a short while?

((You may respond here, typical children's audience style... shouting, whispering, chanting... whatever ))

"UNCLE BALE!"

"What is it my love, my sweet niece (by adoption children, by adoption)... What can I do for you, Amelia my love?"

"I HATE the story about the Prince and Princess. I want a NEW story! I want a story about... a... Unicorn and a evil black cat wizard who tries to steal the unicorn's magic powers!"

"Alright, Amelia my love, you find me the characters and I'll tell you the story. Don't trip on your scarf there... Ooh... bet that hurt. Now, brave beasts and evil beasts in the audience, who would like to hear a story about a Magical unicorn and the wicked Evil cat that tried to take the Unicorn's powers from him?"

((You may respond here, typical children's audience style... shouting, whispering, chanting... whatever ))

"I gottem Uncle Bale! I gottem!"

"Thank you Amelia my dear... Let's us see now. This chap here with the colourful hair, he shall be the courageous BrooHA! Unicorn fighter extraordinaire. His deeds shall be sung a thousand times in a thousand circles, and his name shall always be spoken with a hint of jealousy, a heaping teaspoon of fame and just a pinch of celery seeds. This fellow over here.... oh, excuse me, Fellowess. She shall be the evil cat, with aspirations of wickedness met only by the cat she called father, BUT WHO WASN'T HER FATHER! But I won't bore you with mundane details of Persnicket's life here, the fact that her father ISN'T HER FATHER is not entirely important in today's story. Perhaps another time Persnicker? Perhaps, indeed."

"Uncle Bale, her name is Persnicket."

"Good heavens... what did I call her?"

"Persnicker."

"Ah, thank you. I will endeavor to be more attentive in my assertations."

"Uh huh."

"Anyway. Our story begins one night. There was some debate as to whether the night was nice or dire... do you recall which it was?"

((You may respond here, typical children's audience style... shouting, whispering, chanting... whatever ))

"Yes yes, of course. I should have known. BrooHA was walking calmly from his house one day, where he was going I shan't tell you, for you are all little and wouldn't understand the complex desires of a grown man's soul... anywho, he was walking, and in his travels he came across a an old beggar cat in the road. Now, Kiddos, if you ever happen across an old beggar in your travels, you best do whatever they want you to do, because if stories teach us anything, it's that beggars are never simply vagabonds. They usually have magic powers which they won't hesitate to use on you for whatever purpose you earn. This beggar was no different, for no sooner had she asked BrooHA for a spare bite of apple (he refused, the daft animal, all rainbow hair and not a drop of common sense in the beast!), than the beggar stood and became Persniffity, the evil cat wizardess!"

"Persnicket."

"Persnicket, right. She stared him right in the eye and said "Arrrrent you scarrrred little horny horse?... Eh, Horned horse!" *puppetfacepalm* He looked her right in the eye and said "NNNeiiiigh Evil Persnarft..."

"Persnicket."

"Persnicket... I'm Nniiiiiiiiooot afraid of you at allllll." And she grinned an evil grin and smiled and wicked smile and she said. "Oh Arrrrrre you now? Let's play a game... shall we?" And children, should a beggar or an evil wizard ever ask you to play a game you say no. Nothing good has ever come from playing games with wizards. I once played a game of three card shrewish with a wizard's h'aprentice and I lost my lucky tail for a week! Anywho... being the dumb horse that he was, all brawn and rainbow brains make for poor common sense, He told her that he LOVED games and that he could beat her at ANY GAME she chose... Do you know what she chose?"

((You may respond here, typical children's audience style... shouting, whispering, chanting... whatever ))

"No, she chose to play the ol' 'tell me a story game'... You know how to play that game right? The first person tells a story, and the other person has to respond with the right emotion and the right words to make the story make sense.... I'll need a couple of volounteers from the h'audience here... put up cher paws if you want to come up here and help me. Amelia, will you help people to the stage please? That one there... that one... that one too. "

"Yes SAH!"

((You don't actually have to volunteer to come up on the stage here, just post one or the other to still be in the round. ))

This round will last until Monday nigtht at 11pm Eastern. If you haven't joined the crowd yet, you have until then to do so, and include this post's answers with that one.... but that's it, no more after that.

Newt joined the other kids, finding a seat and excitedly waiting for the fun to continue. “I do! I do!” He raised his arm and flailed it a but, “I wanna hear a story!” He quickly lowered his hand back to his lap as the awesome scarfed little girl mouse asked for something different. “Oooo! Unicorns…magic Unicorns!” He clapped and nodded his head, careful not to knock the fez off. Bending his legs and wrapping his arms around his knees, he got comfy as he watched Amelia and Bale discussing the characters. “Dire, Dire! Oooo!” Newt chanted, all the best stories started out bad, the spookier the better as far as he was concerned. “What’s the Time, Mr. Wolf?” he called out, not actually asking the question, but instead yelling out the name of his favorite game. He was a speedy little guy, so most of the time he won, and what child doesn’t love to win? “Oh me…me please!” He raised his paw again and waved it. His momma had told him plenty of stores, so he felt he’d be able to at least give it a go.

"Shaddup, shaddup the both of ya! I wanna hear the rabbit!" Finn said, thumping his brothers on the head and simultaneously hugging/strangling them. He couldn't believe that they were all together again; it was the best! He attempted to wrangle them towards the bench, so that Bale could be heard. However, Finn's own shouts threatened to drown out the rabbit for those around him as he started listening and responding to the storyteller's prompting.

"Yah! Yah for the wicked queen! Don' wanna princess, let's hear about the wicked queen!" cried Finn, the most wicked of all wicked beasts in the forest. "Wickaqueen wickaqueen wickaqueen!" But his chanting was cut short by the insistence of the little mouse. She seemed to have excellent taste in stories. Unicorns were stupid and girly and if a wizard could steal their power, then good for the wizard. The squirrel piped down as Bale asked the gathered crowd for their thoughts, but that evil cat sounded too bad to be true. "Ooh, yeah! Tell us about the evilest wizard in the world!" Finn wasn't really evil, but the moustache made him pretend harder than he'd ever pretended before. He didn't care at all about the unicorn puppet that Amelia had pulled from the trunk; no, he was interested in the dark puppet, the fierce black cat Persnicket. As Bale addressed the audience, he shouted as loud as he could.

"Dire night! With a big bad thunderstorm!" But as the rabbit wove the tale further, Finn found himself at a bit of a loss. He couldn't think of a game that was worth shouting. Tag? No, that was too easy. Put-The-Baby-Hedgehog-On-The-Roof-Until-Zephra-Yells-At-You-Even-Though-Everybody-And-I-Do-Mean-Everybody-Is-Having-Fun-See-The-Hedgehog-Laughing? No, the rules for that were too complicated. Plus, Zephra wasn't there. But even though he didn't call out a game, Bale had come up with one on his own. He was a really good storyteller. Finn himself had never played the game that he mentioned, but it sounded fun. Going up on stage, though? That sounded even more fun!

He scrambled to his feet, standing on the bench and possibly his neighbor's lap. "Ooh! Me! Pick me! Pick me, Miss Amelia!" He was aware that Miss wasn't an appropriate address from a villain, but he was too excited to care.

Trix nodded and went to helping the bat with the collar. Her small hands worked well for doing it up and she made quick work of it. She took a step back to admire her handy work. "There, it looks great," she said happily. It would seem like it was just in time too, the rabbit had announced the start of the show and Trix wanted to get to a seat so that she could see it. "We should find a place to sit," she said to the bat before she herself turned and scampered over to bench.

She listen to the story with rapt attention. She would have been happy with the one about the princess, but who could say no to a magic horse and wicked evil. She shouted along with the best of them at the top of her little mouse lungs. When the opportunity arose to volunteer, she practically jumped out of her seat and started to wave her arms. "Oh, oh, pick me!" Trix had never played before, didn't even know the rules of the game but she was sure she could play, and well.


Rhys allowed himself to be ushered over to the bench without much protest. Sure he would rather be doing something else, like wrecking some kind of havoc, this really was more Trix's thing than his. It seemed like it was Finn's thing too though and he would put up with it if it meant more time with his brother. So he sat there watching the rabbit with mild interest (more entertained that he couldn't seem to get the details right than for any other reason). He didn't yell like all the other kid that surrounded him were and when everyone had their hands up and waving around he just sat back and watched. He would let someone else make a fool out of themselves up on the stage, like his brothers, or Trix (who was undoubtly in the crowd somewhere, waving her little hard frantically, like an idiot). In fact he hoped it was one of them, that would make it better for him.

Switchfoot propelled herself into the air, after calling out a thanks to the mouse girl. If she was going to be able to see anything in this crowd she'd need to be watching from higher up. Thankfully there was a tree near enough to the stage that she could hang from one of it's branches and not miss a sight or sound. using one foot as usual she swung back and forth a little and watched Bale start the show.

She hissed and bared tiny fangs in response to the suggestion of a story about boring old royalty. That wasn't going to be any fun at all, because those sorts of stories were always the same. Switchfoot wanted well .. something different.

Thankfully Amelia had insisted upon something different and her Uncle had relented. It sounded like a more proper and interesting sort of tale with lots of adventure and surprises. That was the sort of thing Switch could get interested in and she cheered for that option when asked then turned her attention back to Amelia when the scarf wearing mouse girl went searching for puppets.

Afterward Switchfoot settled down and listened as the tale began to unfold even if Mr. Bale kept getting the evil cat's name wrong. On occasion she'd shout something in response to a question, " nice night, hide and seek,". Switch was having fun but the little bat declined to go up on stage when volunteers were asked for, she was quite content just watching.

Roland was a bit mature for his age, always thinking about bettering himself and what he was capable of. It had been instilled in him at Zephra's that he needed to be useful in order to be adopted. He was no longer at the orphanage, but it was hard to change something like that.

Even so, there was one thing that made him act more like a child: stories. Every once in a while, someone had convinced Zephra to tell a story, but hers had been bland and much less dramatic than that of this rabbit. Even Zephra's stories had turned him into a little feathered ball of excitement, though. Well, at least on the inside.

The rabbit's dramatic story telling, though... It brought Roland's inner child to the forefront. He sat among the crowd, listening intently as Bale asked if they wanted to hear a story about a prince and princess whose lives became terrible for a short while. He frowned at the summary, since it gave away that the ending would be a happy one, and was glad when the small mouse up on stage convince him to tell a different one. Roland didn't like knowing the end ahead of time.

After the mouse found the puppets for the story, Bale began to tell it and Roland continued to listen, interested in the side story of Persnicket's father not being her father and slightly disappointed that they couldn't hear it, until Bale called the cat by a different name only seconds after naming it. He found himself mumbling, "I thought it was-" only to be cut off by Amelia correcting him.

When the rabbit continued, actually beginning the story, he asked whether they remembered if the night was nice or dire. Instead of shouting one of the two options, Roland looked slightly confused and said, "I wasn't there," aloud, but to no one in particular. He had actually kind of tuned out the rest of the crowd, completely focused on the story and the rabbit telling it, correcting him aloud at the same time as the mouse on stage each time he said the wrong name and wondering if, perhaps, he was doing it on purpose.

It wasn't long before Bale asked the crowd if they knew what game Persnicket had chosen for them to play. Roland had no idea, having not played very many games in his young life, but he was pretty sure it would be something the unicorn wasn't very good at. That was usually how these things worked, wasn't it? They went with your weakness so that they could have the advantage. When he explained the game and asked for volunteers to go up on stage to play, his little heart lept in his chest slightly. He had never played it, but it didn't sound too difficult and he liked the idea of joining in the fun rather than just watching as he usually had in the orphanage. He soon raised one of his wings, hoping to be called and thinking Maybe I'll be good at this game. Maybe even better than Persnicket.