“Position,” Robert
mumbles to himself, still casting his eyes across the meadow,
desperate for some clue as to what he should do. “Any ideas?” he
asks Mo, but the midget just shrugs.
“I'm here for a
reason,” Robert continues under his breath, “If only I could
remember.” He pauses, runs his hands through his hair, takes a
deep breath. “Tell the others I'm standing by,” he says to Mo,
which the midget promptly does.
“Standing by for what
though,” Robert mutters to himself, “What on earth am I supposed
to be doing here?”
By now he's examined
every tree, rock, nook and cranny at least three times, with not a
single clue presenting itself.
“M'lady,” Mo says
apologetically, “Both your husband and Raven are in position.”
“What?” Robert
demands, “No, No I am not.” He looks at the midget pleadingly.
“I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.”
