She drew a deep breath, and delivered the final and inevitable coda. “Gloober, get your finger out of there!”
“Awww….”
Well, at least things were getting back to normal. And maybe nothing would change, and the war would still go on, and they’d be right back to gruel and marching up hillsides in the dark.
Maybe Finchbones was right, and you never knew why anything changed. Maybe it was all down to small things.
Like teddy-bears. And kittens.
And goblins.