On the Hunt

I’m here in the wild outback of the Cullinan Ct, where the grass is tall enough to conceal a very small zebra. I’ve spotted a far rarer beast, however.

It is distracted. I am safe for now.

Is it a fairy? No, no. It’s much too large. A troll? Perhaps, but it is cuter than a troll. Plus, it doesn’t stink (right now). What could it be? Uh, oh. I think I’ve been spotted.

It waved its arms, making it seem larger than it really was.

It is making a territorial warning that looks a lot like “roll it and roll it and mark it with a “D”.”

"Roll it and roll it..."

I’m trying to back away slowly, but it is too late. It is coming for me.

It seems to be sticking out its tongue-whether to mock me, to sniff the air like a lizard, or in anticipation of a glorious battle I cannot guess.

Any hope I had of victory in combat is gone. Look at the size of those teeth!

…End of Transmission…