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"You haven't seen Bitey about, have you? I was just, uh -- Anyway, he's wandered off and I can't seem to work out where." Cremsden scratched his head, still glancing about as he spoke. "I just-- reckon he forgets he can't do things sometimes, he might have got himself into bother."
On Wed, Aug 8, 2018 at 11:21 AM, Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...>
At the sound of Cremsden's voice, Tyne looked up with a genuine smile. She liked the grumpy man. He was one of the few people in the Weyr that treated her as though she were just someone else. Not just someone damaged. It wasn't hard to see the worry lines at the corner of the man's expression. "What's wrong?" she asked, carefully lifting Bobbin from her lap and climbing to her feet.
It had only been a short nap, and not an intentional one at that. Cremsden had been sitting by the Lake for what he'd intended to be five minutes before lunch and then thirty minutes or so later he'd woken up. More alarmingly he'd woken up without anyone biting him or trying to pull out his hair to tell him it was lunchtime. Bitey was nowhere to be seen and no amount of calling and whistling had produced him so far. So, Cremsden was on a slow careful trudge around the Lake, hoping to spot him.
He brightened seeing Tyne. "Hey! Hey, uh, you! Got a minute?"
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
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I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!
Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.