The Next Day

Ben arrived well after midnight last night. He was carrying a puppy and an egg. 

No, really. He had an egg in his hands. 

That excuse “It followed me home, can I keep it?” worked for the puppy. Winston was smitten with it as soon as Ben walked in to the room. 

The egg? I banished it to the fireplace after he explained that it belonged to the dragon. Don’t roll your eyes at this post, you would do the same thing if you were in my shoes. It’s a dragon egg.

Anyway, Ben and I had a very late dinner with the dogs while Mark slept on the couch still. Ben was full of news about what happened out at the site, more so than Miles who showed up at about 2 am. Apparently after I managed to get Mark home, showered and tucked in on the couch; the specialist arrived. Her name is Morgan Le Fleur. I won’t even try to guess what she’s a Priestess of, that way I won’t offend her later. 

Ben tried to describe the ritual that was performed, but he could only see bits and pieces of it from where he was on the road. Apparently, all those horror movies and TV shows where the main character gets killed by being where they shouldn’t be has made us both a little leery of being involved in anything dangerous. We’re both happy and content to not be at the center of things where it’s possible to get killed. 

I do still worry about the fact that when Ben left this morning, the dragon egg is still in my fireplace. That is something I worry about, what he decides to drag home. 

Where was I? Oh yeah, the ritual. It’s apparently still going on and Ben’s out there to finish up the job he was doing yesterday before he found The Park and all that hullabaloo happened. So while he’s out there, I’m assuming his curious nature will get the better of him and he’ll get an update on the ritual. 

I think Mark is awake again, I can hear muffled laughter, so I’m assuming he’s found the puppy. That’s a good sound. I didn’t think I’d be hearing it so soon, but it’s probably good that it happened. 

Maybe there’s hope that Max will be alive and come home soon. It’s probably stupid to hope, but I hope all the same.

-Marlowe

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