I can't do things because I know I can't. I can do things becase I think I can. I can do things because I know that I can.
Bartimaeus raced through the forest, his head pouncing right along with his motions. His blue paw and red tail tip, if ever seen, would be only a flash of color, like that of a meteorite on a fine afternoon. Bartimaeus• lunged over an uprooted tree, and he leaped over a felled wolf. Wait! He couldn't look back. But that Queezle.
Bartimaeus's eyes filled with the symbol of sorrow. Tears.
Mwamba would surely be alive?
He raced through the forest.
He jumped over Jabor's bloody body (Hurrah!) and, was that Faquarl? Well, if it was, he'd be rejoycing tomorrow.
But, what ended his triumph ws the body of Mwamba. He'd been close to Mwamba, and it would be his fault every one died.
That was what stopped him. That was what shoved the dirt from under his feet, as he skidded to a halt.
There was Mwamba's body. Her purple muzzle was in an eternal snarl, and her eyes glazed. She'd died in pain. He searched frantically to and fro for a flower. The first thing he could find was a purple lilac. He put it by the base of her ear, and he shed a tear over her body.
He lay down, and he watched her motionless body.
The night grew old, and he got up.
He woud plan to bury Mwamba properly.
But, he saw movement from his preforal vision.
He growled, and his hackels raised, his tail suddenly twitching toward flicking upward.
A huge wolf with rippling muscles moved toward him, and he lay there, panick-ridden.
Nouda he thought.
With a flash, Bartimaeus woke up and his whole body twitched, and he looked at Mwamba towering above him. He was panting.
"Wow, that's some dream."
Bartimaeus nodded. And I don't even like Mwamba....
Bartimaeus raced through the forest, his head pouncing right along with his motions. His blue paw and red tail tip, if ever seen, would be only a flash of color, like that of a meteorite on a fine afternoon. Bartimaeus• lunged over an uprooted tree, and he leaped over a felled wolf. Wait! He couldn't look back. But that Queezle.
Bartimaeus's eyes filled with the symbol of sorrow. Tears.
Mwamba would surely be alive?
He raced through the forest.
He jumped over Jabor's bloody body (Hurrah!) and, was that Faquarl? Well, if it was, he'd be rejoycing tomorrow.
But, what ended his triumph ws the body of Mwamba. He'd been close to Mwamba, and it would be his fault every one died.
That was what stopped him. That was what shoved the dirt from under his feet, as he skidded to a halt.
There was Mwamba's body. Her purple muzzle was in an eternal snarl, and her eyes glazed. She'd died in pain. He searched frantically to and fro for a flower. The first thing he could find was a purple lilac. He put it by the base of her ear, and he shed a tear over her body.
He lay down, and he watched her motionless body.
The night grew old, and he got up.
He woud plan to bury Mwamba properly.
But, he saw movement from his preforal vision.
He growled, and his hackels raised, his tail suddenly twitching toward flicking upward.
A huge wolf with rippling muscles moved toward him, and he lay there, panick-ridden.
Nouda he thought.
With a flash, Bartimaeus woke up and his whole body twitched, and he looked at Mwamba towering above him. He was panting.
"Wow, that's some dream."
Bartimaeus nodded. And I don't even like Mwamba....
