Could....................................could you just move your hoof a bit?' asked Flossie.
'Which one?' replied Lefty.
'Back right...........thanks! That's better. Now, I know it's a long shot, but, asking anyway, does anyone still have a pointy sword about them?'
There were a couple of dejected bleats from the flock.
'..................Pointy dagger?' asked Flossie.
But there were just more dejected bleats.
'Pointy spoon?.....................Pointy hoof file?...........Pointy anything?'
'I think we've been cleared out,' observed Lefty.
'Hmm,' said Flossie. 'What about Hookey? He must still have something.'
But where there would normally have been a response of an enthusiastic, rasping, tap...there as just the muffled sound of a fleece against soft grass.
'Curses!' muttered Flossie.
'Might try to bite our way out?' suggested Lefty.
'Undignified,' replied Flossie.
'Looks like it could be back to prison then,' said Lefty.
'A brief moment of freedom,' replied Flossie. 'Held, enjoyed, caressed and then...lost again!'
'Quite poetic,' bleated Lefty.
'Thanks,' replied Flossie. 'Could you...could you just move that hoof again..........thanks!'
(Back next Thursday, sorry for the delay)
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