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“Hey, Philamos," he said. "Have you seen my goat? He's white, answers to ‘Chapelle’, he's about the size of a goat, branded with a ‘digamma’…”
“What's a digamma?”
“Oh, it's a letter. Looks like an ‘F’.”
“What's an ‘F’?”
“Have you seen a goat or not?”
“Nope.”
“Well then.”
Wilamos went to look for Chapelle.
—
None of the others around seemed to have seen a goat either. But Wilamos was pretty sure he could track Chapelle anywhere. Known that goat his whole life, he had. He packed his bag with bread and goat cheese (still fresh) and headed out. He found a few bits of grass eaten here, a few cans chomped there. Wilamos went west, confident that he was on the right trail.
The blazing sun overhead began to fall as he spied a tall mountain to the west.
The fading sun in the west slipped behind the mountain as he reached its foot.
Slowly he started on the rocky path. He ate some bread and cheese (it was past dinnertime) but he hadn't packed a torch. Still, he needed to find his goat, and with Makros shining bright overhead, it was still prime goat-finding time.
Wilamos stepped from rock to rock in the dim light, when suddenly one of the rocks gave way beneath him! As he slid down, he flung his arms out, hoping to find a bush or tree to grab hold of, but instead, a rough hand grabbed him and pulled him back to safety.
(continued in The Bull)
This post has been edited by Pallas Athene: 26 December 2016 - 04:28 PM
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