Wumple Boffwungler stood still for a moment. His arms felt like they were about to fall off and his throat was raw from all that shouting. He watched as his older neighbour and some strange creature, whose origin he vaguely recognised, became nothing but specks on the horizon.
He was not angry. He had heard stories of this sort of thing happening before and from what he had gathered, there was little to be done. He knew that he was not allowed to venture out to the Newland fields near the border, the Judgess had declared it out of bounds for all those except her night workers and the patrol guards, but he had only been chasing a playful Fobwit. It was a thing he was beginning to regret as two heftily built Trunglers came striding across the field towards him.
