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A Slave's Life |
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DATE: July 15, 2001 CAST: Basil and Walter Strawberry Plantation A wide expanse of dark brown soil greets your eye, interrupted by the frequent presence of bright red, tempting strawberries--an extremely valuable commodity. Although no humans dwell nearby, the strawberries look well-cared for; there are no weeds, the earth is slightly damp, and the blossoms have been trimmed away. The explanation becomes evident when you notice several ants laboring in the area. They are unusually thin, their expressions vacant, and their motions mechanical. Their work is harshly surveyed by larger insects, each one clutching a barbed lash. Further off in the distance is the shape of an old coke bottle, caked with grime and dust. Closer to the strawberries themselves is another structure made from a bizarre variety of bark, mud, and stone. It's fortunate that the clouds are plentiful this afternoon. For the ants laboring in the fields, it's bad enough without blistering sunlight. Several ants can be seen, cutting strawberries away and piling them up into little heaps, with much difficulty. Most of them stoically go about their business even as a wagon containing several ants and one hornet comes rolling into the area, lugged by one immense (and rather dense-looking) beetle. Feeling the wagon coming to a stop, Basil takes a long low look out into the surroundings. He's since tried to bring what little sprits up he has, but upon viewing the rather large size of the red ripe berries, he manages a hard swallow, and looses most of any hope produced. "I'm in serious trouble if they think I can lift berries that size in my current condition." He shakes his head sorrowfully, and as the others in the cart make their way out, he feels his injuries ache, slowing him down. Off at a short distance, lugging one of the smaller strawberries away is at least one ant who pauses long enough to glimpse at the newcomers. With a tight expression on the verge of a frown, Walter heaves a sigh. "Great. More victims," he mutters below his breath, refocusing his attention on his current burden. It's not good to idle in the presence of the taskmaster. Meanwhile, the hornet buzzes into the air and lands near the exiting ants. "Okay," the insect says. "You can start by cutting off those strawberries and piling them up. If anyone disobeys, they'll have to answer to him." The hornet nods in the direction of a scowling grasshopper, who wields a thorned lash, and seems eager enough to use it. Basil swallows hard again, and upon hearing the threat made by the taskmaster, feels his head swim a little. 'Maybe I can try to fake this a little, after all, that adrenaline rush saved me earlier...' He attempts to comfort himself, but to no avail as he moves in toward a smaller strawberry, but isn't able to muster the strength to lift if out but a few steps, and drops it to the ground with a rather loud thump. Basil turns a panicked, rapid gaze as he looks to see if the wrong person's were privy to his weakened performance. Walter dusts his hands off after finishing dumping off the last strawberry, and trudges off to fetch another one. Yup. That pretty much sums up his life's routine these days. He's about to pass Basil up, when he perceives the injured ant's difficulty from the corner of his eye. After glancing at the less than pleasant taskmaster, who appears to have his attention elsewhere, Walter approaches Basil and begins to help him pull the strawberry without a word. Basil notices that his mistake has been overlooked, and makes another attempt to move the berry once more. As he does, he looks over and notices one of the ants lifting the same strawberry, which become obvious to Basil it is out of kindness that Walter is making his assistance. "Thanks." is about all Basil dares to make out virbally as he now assists the other ant in moving the object to it's desired location. Walter backs away from the strawberry once they ease it onto the pile, and pauses only long enough to glance in the direction of the hornet at the grasshopper, who appear to be asborbed in some discussion. Then, he does what is typically forbidden: he speaks to Basil while they're supposed to be working. "Help us with the bigger ones for now," he says, very quietly, "and look like you're putting your back in it. They expect more than one ant for those." He gestures toward one of the larger strawberries, which already has two ants working on it, and marches toward it. Basil simply nods to the affirmative. He also gets the message of keeping it quiet, and follows Walter to the next berry. This time, however, Basil begins to find it more and more taxing to continue, and upon attempting to lift the next one, an uncontrollable grunt is emitted from him, the same stinging pain flowing through his injured shoulder, and finds himself on the verge of loosing the next load. He looks around again, and finds the expressions of the other ants a bit apprehending, but understandable. The poor guy has little hope in getting much farther without gaining attention. Walter also aims a slightly harsh look at Basil as he and three other ants handle the strawberry; it wouldn't be good if the masters of the plantation got wise to this. "Act," he hisses. "Just act. We've got--" he stops when the hornet approaches, glaring stonily at him. He swallows hard. Oops. Real smart, man... let yourself get caught 'chatting' with the others. Basil nods to the affirmative, and plans to redouble his efforts, although he'd just assume correct the ant for bugging him for not being able to contain the excruciating from his injuries. 'He has no idea what I've been through!' Basil grits his teeth in irritation, but has enough common since to keep his opinion to himself. But it would seem too late as the hornet approaches, to which Basil refuses to let another person take the blame for him, foolish as that might turn out to be. The hornet folds his arms, tapping his fingers against his left arm. "Having a pleasant chat, slave?" he asks, bending over to leer at Walter. Walter swallows hard, and feels a bead of sweat race down his forehead. He'd like to wipe it off, but his hands are currently busy with holding up his part of the strawberry "I, uh... aheh. Y--I mean, no, master..." Basil cuts off Walter in a overwhelming desire to defend the innocent ant next to him. "Look," Basil takes a long swallow before continuing. "I'm sorry, i.. it...it was my fault." Another swallow ensues "I've been injured in coming here, and he was just trying to help me out. B... b... but I'll make a much better effort in work, I promise." Basil manages to cough out the weak words, who has just now figured out that any retaliation was a foolish attempt. Basil shrinks back a little, feeling a cold chill run thorough himself. The hornet's mouth curls into a cold, pitiless smile as Basil defends the ant. "Oh, and you want to take his punishment for him? How kind of you," he says, with not a little sarcasm. "But from the looks of you, there wouldn't be anything left by the time we were through. And I just bought you." He motions to a nearby female ant. "You. Tend this one. Make sure he's fit to work as soon as possible." He aims a harsh look at Walter. "And you come with me." Walter would like to take this opportunity to run like the dickens, but of course, that would only earn him something worse than what the hornet must have in store for him. Suppressing a shudder, he releases his hold on the strawberry just as another ant automatically comes over to take his place, and prepares to follow his 'master.' Basil looks in a dumbfounded expression as he glances at Walter and can hardly think straight. "I am so sorry..." Basil manages a whisper to the ant who has has been called to take the punishment Basil feels solely responsible for. Soon the female ant that was ordered to assist Basil takes him by his good shoulder and directs him toward the slave bunker. She can sense Basil's desire to intervene, but places a finger to her lips to silence him. Finally Basil wises up, but not without feeling excruciating guilt washing over him, he can hardly progress forward. The hornet glares harshly at Walter, and has the doomed ant walk ahead of him, an ominous march toward the grasshopper, who is grinning like a maniac. Must be some sadist who loves his job, or else he gets paid well. While looking downward, Basil begins shaking his head. "It's not his fault, it's not his fault..." over and over again. Basil comes to a stop, looking back as to what is going to happen. But feels himself being pulled forward, by the female ant who has him in tow. "There is nothing you can do." She answers to his expression and makes a tighter grip. Basil would fight back, but with the sustained injuries, he really is no match for the assistant with the firm grip on his shoulder, managing their way to the bunker they are soon to enter. Walter steps toward the grasshopper, resigned and hopeless like one who is approaching a guillotine. Inwardly he decides he might be lucky if they only relieve his shoulders of his head. He stops, head bowed, refusing to look his source of 'retribution' in the eye. Behind him, the hornet nods at the grasshopper. "Give him the standard number of lashes, Quill, for speaking and for trying to hide that from me," he says loudly enough for most to hear. "We run a business here, not a family. If you think someone can't do their job," he adds, speaking to the ants at large, "you send them to me. Don't cover up for them. Unless you want to receive the same punishment as this one." The hornet icily lets his gaze drift through the assembly of slaves for many seconds, then folds his arms behind him and steps away. "You may continue." Basil once more stops at hearing the threat and promise made by the grasshopper. He makes another vain attempt to escape the grasp of he female ant. She looses grip of Basil, and finds she has to step in front of him, to keep him from making a foolish mistake. "You can't do anything to help, and if you anger him more, he will most likely kill you." She looks Basil in the eye with a stern expression. "And don't you even doubt that for a second, I've seen it, they have no qualms about it." Basil has no choice but to follow the others advice, but upon reaching the bunker, emits a fairly angered, "What kind of place is this?" Outside the bunker, several quick, loud, ominous sounds are issued. Cracks. Like a whip. Eventually each one is followed with a howling report as Walter receives his punishment. A moment later, and the door opens, and Walter is unceremoniously tossed in like a sack. Slave bunker A tiny cramped dwelling where slave ants of this plantation are kept during off hours. There is virtually no means of comfort. The bunks are too small to fit in comfortably, causing sleep to be a difficult commodity to obtain. The main door is locked tight from the outside, making escape from within virtually impossible. However, the structure is hardly air tight, making the heat of the day and the chilliness of the night more unbearable There is a small container for water, but is frequently only enough to prevent de-hydration, nothing more. Basically the most uncomfortable and most unbearably living conditions. Just enough to keep ants contained, and alive. Basil swallows hard as he witnesses Walter thrown into the bunker. He feels completely numb, unable to think clearly. He sits on the edge of a bunk he has already discovered will not fit his height comfortably, and looks at Walter lying on the ground, unable to determine what kind of condition he is in. Basil simply does not know how to deal with the situation. In response, the ant who accompanied him merely shakes her head, and mutters. "The kind of place you don't ask that kind of question in." Walter just sort of lies there for a few seconds, limp. His back is bleeding profusely from the beating it took. With a stifled groan, he pushes himself up into a sitting position. "And I thought revolutions were bad," he mutters. Basil slowly gets up off of the bunk, and makes a few steps forward to where Walter is located. He notices the injuries on his back and has to stop and look away. "I'm sorry, all of this is my fault." he coughs out a hoarse whisper, half expecting Walter to attack him for getting him hurt. Then he hears his comment about 'revolutions' and can't help but wonder where he heard that before. He claims no recollection at this time. "Darned straight," Walter snaps, grunting as the pain continues to burn at his back. He does not, however, venture to attack Basil. "We targeted the big strawberries so if there's enough of us to distribute the weight, you can just look as though you're lugging the thing." He shakes his head, and slowly gets up, staggering toward the nearest source of water. "Although it probably would have helped if I didn't say anything," he mutters. While Basil is merely staring down at the ground, the young female ant looks at the two of them, and chooses to stay out of the situation, she quickly leaves the bunker with the intent to return soon. "I blew it, I'm sorry." Basil looks ominously on and then the work revolution plays in his mind again. "Revolution, what does that sound familiar?" Basil muses to himself, not expecting an answer. Walter strains to look over his shoulder, down at the damage he took. He tears off strips from the leaf containing the water source, wets them, and begins applying them to his poor abused back like self-adhesive bandages. "Gahh! Man, that stings..." Thus finishing with a grimace, he positions himself on his stomach, propping his chin on his arms. "Familiar?" he echoes. "Well, you know, a revolution, when a queen is thrown out of power because her subjects are really unhappy about her..." Basil winces as he watches Walter apply the bandages to his injured back. He holds his hand in a small gesture of self defense, as he makes an attempt to correct Walter. "Actually..." Basil manages to clear his throat. "...what I meant was that I remember hearing something about a revolution from someone... " he muses for a second, and then his memory finally kicks in. "There were these three gals from another colony who just arrived at my home, one of them told me about some kind of revolution they were involved, or should I say, the victims of." Basil announces as his recollection finally comes back to him. "Huh," is Walter's first intelligent response to Basil's recollection. "Revolts must be more common than I thought. Unless by some really strange coincidence they're from Lakeside as well." He winces at the stinging sensation on his back, and grits his teeth, offering no further comment for the time being. That name, Lakeside. Did Willow mention that one to him? Basil couldn't remember at the moment, but then an idea came to him, to simply tell Walter the names of the three who arrived. "I don't remember the place they came from right off, but by any chance do the names Tilly, Shine and Willow ring a bell?" He ventures not knowing what kind of response he will get, after all, Willow didn't seem to know if anyone else besides she and the other two escaped alive, but Basil was simply too intrigued to not ask. Walter's eyes show no recognition for the names Tilly and Shine, but his antennae perk up with recognition at Willow's name. "Eh, well... Willow does. I had a stepsister named Willow." He shuts his eyes and bites his lip, trying to keep the pain within a manageable threshold before weakly continuing, "But, you know, hey, there's a ton of ants running around named after trees. Did she, uh, carry a notebook all the time, have a last name of Northtunnels or something?" Basil nods to the affirmative. "Yes, as a matter of fact, she did carry a notebook, and in addition, I do remember her last name /was/ Northtunnels." He mutters with his chin in his hand. "Willow told me about how she had to escape, leaving her family behind. She seemed so overcome with emotion when she told me..." Basil gives Walter a long look, followed by a big smile. "If Willow knew you were still alive, I'd imagine she would be ecstatic right now!" His expression then slacks off. "But then since I have no way of knowing how to get back home, that does little good, does it?" Walter emits a dry, humorless laugh, which is abruptly cut off as he inadvertently aggravates the wounds on his back. Inspect the bandages momentarily, he replies, "She might be relieved, maybe, but I don't think she'd be exactly *happy* to have me around again." He adjusts a bandage slightly, frowning--either from pain or a bad memory is hard to say--, then glancing back at Basil. "But, yeah, for all the good it does, which isn't much." Basil seems rather at a loss for words. "There was no mention of any kind of strife between your step sister and any of the members of her family, just remorse of leaving them behind." He simply muses on, then realizes he's been rather rude in not offering his name. "Oh, and speaking of names, my name is Basil, and I'm sorry to hear that you and Willow didn't get along, but yeah, I guess she would at least be relieved." A brief pause is made, as a hand is offered but not expected to be accepted. "But unless we find a way out of here, and only you can tell me if that is possible, than it sounds like you have little to worry about." A sorrowful expression presents its self. Walter smirks. "Things like that'll do that to you... or maybe she finally saw the light, or something." He pauses as Basil extends his hand, and slowly, laboriously pushes himself up just enough to accept it in his right hand. "Walter Forager," he offers. "And no, I don't figure that there's a way out of here... can't escape." Pause. "Well, yes, you can." Basil feels greatful at the acceptance of his hand. The last thing he needs in this place of servitude is another enemy. "Yeah, I guess it does." he replies at the statement of Walter's comments about life and his step sister's possible change of heart. But then feels his heart sink, and then confusion at the response to escape. "What do you mean . 'Well, yes, you can?' " Walter sits upright, and lightly leans his side against one of the bunks. "I mean, you _can_ escape." He smiles without the slightest trace of humor. "'Course, the last guy who did got hunted down and had the living daylights beaten out of him. I tell you, it wasn't a pretty sight, and we were hard pressed not to lose our lunch... such as it was, the mangy pikers hardly feed us. But it makes a slave think twice about pulling a fast one." Basil can hardly contain his shock and slumps back down onto a bunk himself. He drops his head down, smacking the back of his head on the edge of the bunk, forgetting he was too big to fit comfortably. "Oh, my... " Basil mutters with a gasp and can speak no more. He takes a look over at the other occupant and shows a nearly lifeless expression. "So..." He barely manages to gasp out more than a squeak of a voice. Then nothing else comes. For a long time. It is at this point the female ant comes back in, and upon reaching Basil, gives him a look of grave concern. "I'm afraid that they are only going to give you a few days to get better, then your life is in your hands." "Oh, how merciful and gracious are the masters," Walter comments dryily, upon hearing the female ant's report. "Say, maybe we'll get lucky and they'll choke to death on their strawberries." Craning his neck to inspect the condition of his bandages, he remarks, "Nah... on second thought, you'd better get well soon, Basil." "I'm gonna be sick!" Basil slowly gets to his feet, and begins to stretch to get limber enough to start getting better. The pain in his chest becomes very intense, but he manages to keep it under control. "Well, it is amazing what the ant body can do when your life is threatened, isn't it." The statement being made with about as much sarcasm as Walter's before. "I think I can make their demands." He laments, but a weak smile is made. "Yeah, Walter, one can only hope..." a hoarse laugh is made, in response to the statement about the slavers' demise. "But maybe you can give me a few pointers so I can keep myself and everyone else around me from getting killed." "It's very simple, actually," Walter begins. "You do whatever they say without complaining. You grovel at their feet and act like you worship the ground they walk on, even though you'd prefer to bury them in it and dance on their grave." He taps his chin momentarily. "Oh, and those guys you saw, their names are Quill and Barak, but you never address them by their proper names. You just call them Master. Just think of yourself as an aphid that can talk." He scratches his head momentarily, grimacing as the fresh injuries on his back act up again. "Ngh oh, and then there's the rules. You're not allowed to talk while you're working. Can't even whistle. You always look like you're working, or they punish you for being a slacker." A nod is accompanied by each suggestion made. "Yeah, that does make sense." Basil simply nods more and continues to walk back and forth, his expression showing the discomfort in each step, but keeping the pain in a managed form. "You know, the thing that amazes me, is that not three days ago, I was living a pretty good life. It's too bad how life can throw such a nasty curve." Lips then form into a tight line. "But the worse thing was, I never even saw it coming." Hands held out in a pleading gesture. "It wasn't a 'hopper' or any other kind of bug that threw me into this mess, it was an /ant/ of all things!" A grave expression is made. "A /fellow/ ant." Walter nods his head shortly, eyes half-lidded. "Yeah, life does that to you. It's a bum deal." Slowly easing up to his feet, and stifling a hiss of pain, he sits down on one of the empty bunks and bends over slowly and carefully, so as not to bump his head against the upper one. "An ant?" he echoes, blinking confusedly. "You mean another ant got you into all this?" A vacant expression is passed from Basil to Walter. Then a simple nod to the affirmative. "Her name is Holly. She came to our colony claiming to have been the only survivor of a group of ants that were captured by slavers." Basil then stands at the edge of the bunk, not taking his eyes off of the ant sitting there. "She told me that her sister was found and needed help, and upon reaching the destination, she gave me away to a slaver stink bug. Then went back to the colony for others." A sullen expression is made, with that all hope leaves Basil for good. "I'm sure the colony has no idea I'm even gone, since we were all alone, so my chances of getting back are hopeless." Basil goes back over to the bunk and slides down, looking up at the bunk above him. "Hopeless." he utters softly. Walter stares at Basil in disbelief. "Crud," he exclaims. "Looks as though like you can't trust anyone anymore. I've never heard of ants working for slavers like that." He snorts in disgust. "Not that I had much faith in girls anymore, they--" he pauses, suddenly remembering to check and make sure the female ant is no longer present. Aheh... yeah. "Yeah." Basil simply mutters to himself, hardly paying attention to what Walter is saying. Then sits up in his seat. "I'm not sure that's entirely fair though. Both of my sisters were very supportive of me, and I know you probably won't agree with me, but Willow did seem like a very concerned individual. I'd come to be very concened for her, as she and I first met back on the island. I felt horrible for what she and the others had been through. Little did I know that it would serve as a warning, but one that came a little to late." "Yeah, well," Walter mutters, "a lot of the ones I knew were backstabbers. Although my sister was okay -- Ivy, I mean." Pause. "Okay, and some others. I guess I'm just not giving them enough credit, but you know how it goes." He scratches his head, and sighs. "But you know, Willow was kind of the reason why we got imprisoned." Basil looks over at Walter, and shows little expression at his statement, until he mentions blame on Willow for getting them into the mess they were in, in the first place. "What?" Is all Basil can mutter under his breath. "I find that very hard to believe, even though I didn't know her very well." Basil sits up again, with a pleading look to find out more of this situation. "But I'll refrain from passing judgement for the moment." Walter sighs. "Ah, she didn't meant to, really, but still..." He shrugs. "None of us were against the revolutionists taking Queen Rosemary down. Although what they did to the loyalists was pretty low. Anyways. When the first ants revolted, Rosemary, or that nut named Filbert, or somebody managed to escape and hide out for a while. The missing ant was found later, and according to the revolutionists, Willow was helping them escape. They imprisoned her as well. When we tried to convince them to let her out, they threw *us* in, too." He scratches his head momentarily. "We asked her if she was helping these guys out... and she said she was. But never said why." Only a simple 'oh' is emmited from Basil as he is told the situation of the revolution at the colony called 'Lakeside'. "I guess I'm still a little confused, but it doesn't sound like she was trying to get anyone in trouble, at least." Basil, for a moments time considers having to ask Willow about her involvement, but then laughs out bitterly. "I guess I'll never truly know what happened, but then I'm not questioning your information. I only hope she wasn't trying to deceive me too." He shakes his head slowly. "But then not seeing Holly again may just make this stay a little... Oh, what am I saying ?!?" Walter emits a short sound that might be something akin to a stifled snicker. "Man, nothing would make this stay pleasant, if that's what you were going to say," he states, eyeing the ground dimly. "Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead, than working my abdomen off for those guys until I can't anymore and they decide to put me out of my misery. They think because they're bigger than ants, they're better, and they can take advantage of us." Basil shakes his head. "Oh, I don't doubt that there is no pleasure in staying here. I was just feeling some deep feeling of resentment for the person who sold me out. Who ruined my life." He can barely hold onto his composure, but slacks off, listening to the rest of Walter's statement. "Oh boy... I was afraid it was as bad as you are telling me." He begins pacing the room, unable to shake Walter's wish for an end to this. "I've been through a lot, exiled from my first home, fought off hunger, thirst, rain storms and birds, but I've never felt, well, that I was ever in a situation so grim as this one." Walter nods slowly. "Well, then it'd be kind of an insult to end your life here after all that, wouldn't it? You should at least have the fun of living to be a decrepit old guy and telling the younger generation how good they have it compared to your day, just like when we were tortured by the elders -- or I was, anyway." He groans and gets up, grimacing at the aggravating wounds on his back, which are now very much a nuisance. "Oh, that does it, I think I'd rather die escaping or something. There's gotta be a way out." Watching and listening to Walter, and his compassion toward Basil is very appreciated, a sudden glimmer of hope enters into him as finding a way out of this situation becomes a common goal between the two of them. "I'm getting the same feeling you are, and I feel that you too have a lot to live for as well. I'd hate to see anyone stuck here, living like this." A weak smile, the first genuine one comes across his face, and shows enough for the moment. "Yeah, I'm with you, and if we both do get out of here, and find out how the heck to get back to Ant Island, I'm imagine you and Willow can find a way to set aside any differences, at least I hope so." Basil sits down and rubs his hands together. "So, how do we find a way out of this dump?" "Yeah, yeah, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there," Walter says in return to Basil's comment about he and Willow setting aside their differences. "Anyways. Our options are kind of limited. Quill, you know, the big grasshopper... who packs a really good punch I might add," Walter adds, wincing as he tilts his head back to inspect the damage he got, "he's pretty much the only one who watches us these days. They're getting pretty lax in security. But," he says, rubbing his chin, "He could still chase us down if we ran for it... and he's got wings..." Nodding to the affirmative, at least on family matters, Basil winces too as Walter checks his injuries on his back. Then listens to the information given, on how lax things have become. "Yeah, that would be bad, if we weren't able to escape unnoticed." Then a thought comes to Basil's mind. "Has anyone attempted a night escape? If we could find a way out under the darkness, we would be long gone before anyone else found us." Then Basil takes a look around at the empty bunks. "I'd sure hate to leave anyone behind, but if we head to the city, or some other place, maybe we can send back help." Then he feels a little overzealous, not knowing how they are going to get help, or where, but it is a hopeful idea. Walter shakes his head slightly. "That would have been ideal, but it's virtually impossible. Every night, we have to stay in here. And the lock is on the outside, so they can choose when and when not to let us out." He nods grimly at the door, frowning darkly. "Oh, yeah, I yeah, that would make sense." Basil seems to have run dry as far as ideas go. It would seem that escape is rather on the list of things that are impossible at the moment, but no matter. "I guess we will just have to keep our eyes open for an opportunity to find a weakness. A weakness that we can exploit, until then well, have to stay and try to deal with it as best as we can." Walter nods slowly in agreement, tapping his fingers on the bunk on which he sits. "That'd be best. After that little fiasco back there, I tell ya, Quill is going to keep a really close eye on us. We'd better be on our best behavior until he gets lazy again." He smirks. "Which isn't hard, for him. That's all he does, really, just stands around, watching us work until someone gets 'out of line'." "Okay, then that will be the plan then." A long deep breath is taken in, and let out again. "I just hope it doesn't take too long for him to get lazy again." Then a look of concern shows just a little, but not for any length of time. "And I'll try not to get you into any more trouble." A soft snicker is made in response to the less than ideal greeting between the two captives. "You'd better not, or I'll..." Walter pauses. "Well, I'll do something." Another pause. "*If* I can," he concludes, smirking. "I have a feeling I'll be incapacitated if I get into trouble again. Can only take so many lashes before you start seeing strange lights and stuff. And if that happens, you're definitely on your own." Another lump collects in Basil's throat as he hears about Walter's condition, and expected outcome from another incousion from the slave owner. And the thought of going alone doesn't seem to offer any comfort, but then it wouldn't be the first time. "Yeah, I'll do what I can." Walter adds, "Oh, and whatever you do, don't eat the strawberries. They'll be especially tempting on a hot, sunny day, but if you do it, they'll -- well, you can guess. They're very protective of those things. They transport them all over, especially to Bug City." Basil smiles for some strange reason, but can understand and appreciate the warning. Then another ideas comes to mind. "I wonder if we could use that to our advantage, the berries shipped to the city?" But doubt enters his mind. "But then I've heard that Bug City is a horrible place for an ant, and I can't help but wonder how we'll get along there. But then I'm getting ahead of myself." Basil then stops and collects his thoughts. "Let's just work one step at a time." Walter nods. "Dunno about you, but I'm bushed. Why don't we talk about this later, or something? We have time before the 'get well soon or else' grace period runs out." Basil looks back and nods to the affirmative. "Yeah, I'm ready to sack out too. Best to take advantage of the down time while we can."
[END LOG] |
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