It really was quite a marvellous thing to see. There it sat, in the
middle of the table, a small well made of mud. At its' centre stood
the candle, flame dancing, surrounded by water with tiny waves
chasing each other in circles. And around the outside, a miniature
typhoon twisted its' way round the edge.
The noise, on the other hand....well, that was something else: the
roar of the fire, the crash of the waves, the rush of the wind. I
could barely hear myself think. And behind it all, a deep rumble,
barely audible, but I could certainly feel it.
I looked at Raven, who cocked his head to one side, looking quite
comical if I do say so. He must have been listening to something,
because he KOWW KOWWed in reply at regular intervals. Oak, on the
other hand, merely sat there, an almost serene smile on his face.
Once he opened his mouth to speak, the rustle of leaves emerged where
I had expected to hear words.
“Well?” I demanded of both of them, “What's happening?”
