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And following down that slippery slope of stubbornness, there was just plain stupid. When the effort put into something was more than the reward, then you just had to brush it off and move on. Calder wasn't one to do that. He was going to hit this damn cannon cat if it killed him! He wasn't going to look like a quiter around Cade! Then he'd think he didn't stick with things for the long haul, that he had commitment issues, and that he would leave Cade one day at home alone with 3 scarlings some dark, stormy night, never to be seen again. He wasn't that type of person!


And he missed.


His eyes narrowed and he looked at Riley as if it was her fault. Maybe it was. Who knew?! You're not.........doing anything to these cats, are you? He mentally said to her.

ICalder continued to look at her with suspicion before he seemed to accept what she said.

Okay.....


.....but I'm watching you.

He turned his attention back on trying to hit these cats.

PULL!

What attempt was this now? 5? 6? He was loosing count and that was NOT a good sign. He was going to be in the negatives with Cade if this kept up. What if some rabid wolf came to their cottage in the swamp and for whatever reason, he had to use a rifle to take it down? Cade couldn't rely on him to defend their home from bog boggarts on good looks alone! He'd pack his suitcase, they'd get into a big fight, and that door would slam shut forever on their once happy, albeit currently make-believe, home leaving him alone and miserable on their front porch.

Did he heard the soft twang of a guitar?


Shaking it off, he tried again.

No one could ever say that Aislin did not at least make an honest, earnest attempt at things. Despite most attempts at fanfare and intrest drawing techniques no one really had come over to her booth. That was alright, so long as they saw her name up on the banner it'd be fine. Besides, more importantly the ghostling wanted to visit the other candidates for the election.

She wended her way through the crowds and crowded booths. She saw Junko's and the crowd that milled around it. A bit of a competitive spark had ignited if only because it was Junko running against her. That would have to be something to come later, though. For now she found herself stopped in front of the booth of a very familiar demon.

Aislin stepped in amongst the throng of booth-goers, looking for Riley. And there she was, positioned on top of a canon along with another familiar face. "Hey!" She trotted over to stand near the both of them, looking at them. "Looking good! Riley! I just wanted to say hello and let you know I'm running for Vice President. I'd look forward to working with you very much, so good luck!"

"Ey," Marosa called, louder, staring right at Calder. "Ah'm talking to ye. Did ye want the fluffball, or nae?" He pursed his lips, not happy with being ignored; he wasn't used to being ignored by anyone but his father, and he did not appreciate the sudden memory, whether it was the other boil's fault or not.

Christof blinked, taken back by Riley's sudden... passion on his behalf. Not worth his thought? Deserved better? The hunchback wobbled, clutching his pocket full of seeds as that dreamy expression returned to his features, Yes, Mistress... ah... but um... you might want to maintenance the cannon every so often and.... my tools are just under the table there and... um... but she was already busy.

He had been doubly commanded, there was no more to it.

He had to take a break.

With just one last look at the Patchwork Ghoul of mystery, the hunchback lurched off.

Riley gave Aislin an affectionate nod as she lit the cannon for Calder again. Good luck, my friend.


BOOM!