Fleeting Glimpses

The drahz driver was struggling with his charges. He shouted and sparked his whip, letting the violet energy crackle threateningly. The heavy-shouldered drahz blinked their beady black eyes and moved, hefting barrels in gray paws and placing them onto a cart. The driver shouted again; the drahz lifted the barrels back to the ground. The driver growled in frustration, but the mute behemoths didn't seem to understand what he wanted.

As I passed, I glanced up at the granite-hued visage of one of the drahz, and I swear I saw an amused twinkle in its eyes.

Then it was gone.

The Trail Behind, the Trial Ahead

"We're well out of that," said Professor-Doctor-Master Bartolomeo, removing his armored cap. "No more venom monkeys."

Vittri, who had doffed his own the moment they floated above the treetops again, forked another morsel of vaporgrass up to Gordo, their bloatfrog. Gordo's prehensile tongue snatched it up, and they lost a bit of altitude as he farted happily. "We got away clean, sir, and clear sailing ahead. Nought but ocean now."

Bartolomeo froze in polishing his glasses. "Ocean, did you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"Quick, lad! The fender paddles!"

"Why, sir?"

Bartolomeo pointed down, where needlelike forms leapt amid the waves. "Pokefish!"