Bal rolled his eyes. Preachers were made of riddles and bones. He turned sharply and stalked back into his wagon, slammed a few things about, and returned to the little landing armed with a padded chair and a bottle. With his goat-like tail flicking, he set the chair below the window and fell into it, putting his hooves up on the railing. He uncorked the bottle with his teeth and raised it towards the cheeky girl in salute.<br/><br/>"If you're all going to keep jawing, I might as well doze in the sunshine," he sighed and took a very long drink. "I trust that if anyone is mauled by things watching or not watching, your screams will make a fine alarm clock."<br/>