Post by Samael Wolfwood on Mar 7, 2014 0:02:07 GMT -5
Fox looked beneath his foot seeing that the sneak had vanished amongst the explosions. It was his own fault, even he had flinched during it all long enough for him to roll free. He dusted off his scale armor, without it he would have been toasted. Upset by his own reflexes he stormed off from the scene hellbent on making sure this did not happen a second time. He did not even realize till later that he had said nothing to his companions.
Sitting at the outpost he produced a quill and ink. He could not read or write... but what he could do... is draw!
Firstly he got to work on his idea of quenching the explosives before they went off...
Then the idea of smothering them.... with a rock... or something...
Then he lost his train of thought and conceived The Xanthus-pult.
Seeming satisfied with his ideas, he left them on the outpost table to dry....
Sitting at the outpost he produced a quill and ink. He could not read or write... but what he could do... is draw!
Firstly he got to work on his idea of quenching the explosives before they went off...
Then the idea of smothering them.... with a rock... or something...
Then he lost his train of thought and conceived The Xanthus-pult.
Seeming satisfied with his ideas, he left them on the outpost table to dry....