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Eyes of a Frog Prince Ch. 6About two hours later....
"THIS is Seaside Town, the shop community?" Toadstool asked in shocked as she looked around. Not that Mallow could blame her.
Everything was dreary, and the strangest Toads they had ever seen were walking around. The few Toads they dared talked to seemed to know that they were collecting stars and that they only had three more to go.
Finally, they decided to see the village Elder about this, and had just been ushered inside by the Elder.
"Yes THIS is Seaside Town and it took you long enough to get here! I know when people are coming and going and you guys took your dear sweet time in getting here!"
"We were just enjoying the morning, what'd you want us to do, run from Star Hill?" Mario asked him, clearly annoyed by how rude the Elder was acting.
"As a matter of fact YES. You see, I got to my wonderful position in life by...pleasing my superiors, which I
Eyes of a Frog Prince Ch. 5Early the next morning, shortly after sunrise....
"Thank you, and goodbye!" the trio told the Innkeeper of the Moleville Inn early the next morning. The night had been uneventful, save for the countless experiments to see if Mallow could read their minds.
Which he did, sucessfully. They had joked with him about him being a psychopath for doing it, so he couldn't help but call his new teqnique Psychopath, just as he called his healing rain, well, Healing Rain.
"Its a lovely morning this morning," Geno couldn't help but comment on.
"Indeed, the kind of morning Toadstool would like...," Mario replied sadly.
"I wouldn't worry, I'm sure she's safe, where ever she is...," Mallow did his best to reassure him.
"Hey, look over there!" Geno said as he pointed to a Snifit Trio chasing a beetle with a butterfly net.
"Come back Mr. Beetle! Don't you want to come to Boosters
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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