Compass“It ain't you, it's 'ere. But I know yer realleh need this place, so I'm goin' t' go away fer a while.”
That had been what Badger had told Crow one morning, three months ago, when he'd got ready to leave Southampton. And, if he was honest, part of him had secretly hoped that Crow would come as well. That he'd drop everything, close the shop and come travelling with Badger.
But he knew that would never be the case. Because Crow really did need the stability that the shop provided. He liked the safety and security of knowing where he lived and where his next meal was coming from. And for a long time Badger tried to be like that as well, but in the end it had done him more harm than good.
Because Badger didn't feel secure, he felt tied down. He wanted to see more of the world than Misthallery or a tiny shop in Southampton could provide. So, after a long time of practising the speech in his head, Badger eventually told Crow that he wasn't going to stay with him. At least not ri
Good SeedsThere was a young farmer called Lando. A fit, healthy man who was respected far and wide by all, because of how hard he worked each day on Tannenbaum's farm. Truly Lando was an asset to the farm and to Craggy Dale itself.
Lando knew that he owed a great deal to the people around him, who had taken him in as one of their own when he'd washed up on their shores one day. He had no memory of where he came from or how he'd gotten there, but that had never mattered. Tannenbaum cared for him like a father would and the people took to him right away.
He worked on the land because he felt that was how he could repay them for their kindness and also because doing so made him happy. It felt better to eat the food knowing that he had helped to grow it.
The name Lando was nothing special. He'd come to them without one and everyone had seemed reluctant to give him a new title. Until one day, a girl no older than four had said she thought he looked like a Lando. So he'd smiled and said that if she th
Stuffing the Honesty BoxBloom panted heavily as he rounded the corner and slipped between a thin gap in the fence into an abandoned garden. He was worn, his suit was ruined and this was merely the start of the evening. More out of habit than anything else, he began to run his hands through his hair, in a fruitless battle to smooth it down.
He'd needed a few moments to get his breath back, but his pursuer would not allow him this. Almost as soon as he started to consider running again, she pushed her way through the fence, adjusting her hat, but otherwise looking no worse for the wear.
Hannah frowned as Bloom glared at her. She was not fazed by his annoyance, but it did cause her to become rather annoyed herself.
“Is there really any need?” she asked.
“You keep doing this,” Bloom hissed, “I've told you before – I can't be found by Scotland Yard.”
“I thought you told me they let you go on account of how useful you were,” Hannah haughtily countered.
Gilbert's BoysIn general, Chelmey didn't do funerals if he could avoid it. Not because he didn't grieve the dead in his own way, but because he's such a gruff and uncomfortable person that he didn't always get his feelings across the right way at them. Others often thought of him as insensitive, so he preferred to pay his own silent respects to those who have passed on without being surrounded by a crowd of other people.
Today, however, he couldn't care less what anyone thought of him. Because there's no way he wasn't going to attend Inspector Gilbert's funeral. Especially after the man had done so much for him.
So he'd scrubbed himself up the best he could and made his way to the church at least an hour early, just to be sure that everything went well. You could never be too careful.
To describe the atmosphere as sombre would be a waste of words to Chelmey – because what else could it be? Gilbert had been a great man who had died far too soon. It was such a harsh blow to Scotland Yard, and to
Brave Little DuckTony was a big, tough teenager who definitely did not cry. Because crying is for little kids, right? None of the Black Ravens ever cried (at least not that Tony could remember), so there's no way that he was going to cry. People would think he's just a baby if he cried.
...But all the same, at fourteen, he didn't feel like he was that much of a teenager. Still mostly a kid, if he's entirely honest. And he wasn't even that big, either. These days even Sean was starting to catch up on him, which really isn't fair. Tony just knows that he's going to have a growth spurt one of these days. However, until he does, he's not big and he's barely a teenager.
As for tough, well, he doesn't feel very tough at all after tripping up the steps that led to Mr. Layton's house. He just felt shaky. And he could even see some blood blossoming from the newly-formed graze on his knee.
The worst part was that Arianna wasn't even there. He could deal with anything as long as his sister's with him, becau