"Tuppy?"
"At your service, as ever. In a manner of speaking. Terms and conditions apply."
"I think we're going to need a bigger boat. In fact, I know we are."
"I could have told you that before we set off. Now shut up and keep rowing."
The moon was up and lighting our path homewards across the Clinch, and a following breeze was proving helpful, especially with Geoffrey being terrible at rowing; so far so good. However, a vast, expanding, black cloud was obscuring the stars on the far horizon, and it was moving our way.
Rapidly.
And we were towing a trailerful of terrified, orange, wooden-toothed sheep.
"Tuppy."
"What is it now?"
"I'm scared. I'm scared of the big black cloud. Pretty soon the moon will be covered and we won't be able to see a thing. And the waves are getting bigger. We've the tidal race and the whirlpool to get through, and they're bad enough in daylight."
"I know."
"Maybe if you rowed as well..."
"I can't! Not with my back. Just do your best and we'll deal with whatever happens somehow. Something always turns up when we least expect it. And I'm sure that for once it'll be a good something." I filled my pipe and stared out at the oily swell. "Karma, Geoffrey. We've done the right thing by rescuing those poor sheep. Nothing can possibly go wrong. The fates are with us."
"It would make a change. What did we rescue them from, exactly?"
"I'm not sure..."
more later
