The big horned sheep looked steadily into Laurnia’s eyes. He stepped toward her, wobbling as an old man does, and gave her a silly little smirk. He had a long goatee to make him appear wise and an inquisitive look in his eye as if always asking questions of the worlds around him. His horns curled over his ears ending at his chin. He also had some tuffs of hair around his horns, but he did have a few areas that shone free from the troubles of hair.
Laurnia and the old sheep made each other’s acquaintance and began to talk of the wonders of this and the next world. She asked for his name. His response, what is in a name that is so important? Does if make one important or just let one identify another? I am sorry, I am chattering again. I chatter because I must have nothing what so ever to do with my time or maybe it is that I chatter because I do nothing what so ever with my time. They traveled down to the river and discussed what was happening with the Tragic Trifecta. They were walking and reminiscing the days of peace and the idea that with great effort it could come to the universe again.
And so passed the days, and while sitting by the fire of night, Laurnia and the Philosophizing Sheep ate and were very merry. Soon an old woman walked into their territory claimed by the river for the time they were there and asked if she could join them. She seemed to talk about nothing but good even though one could see she had in fact witnessed a large amount of evil in her many days wandering the land. Laurnia felt a certain distrust for her, but was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt thinking that this might be a cooping mechanism to hide all the hurt that she had been put through. It was after they feasted that this women took leave of the two others leaving only behind a small basket.
One might think that this basket held a small thank you like bread and cheese, or fruit to help Laurnia and the Philosophizing Sheep, who appeared to be travelers. The Sheep pointed out that that was not all she left behind. A raven perched high in the branches above keeps guard. He looks as if with one false move he will attack, or fly off as if to warn someone of the happenings in this world and the next. The Sheep braved the notions in their heads of the evil that may lie in the basket as well as in tree tops above and opened the basket to examine its contents. He saw an apple. It seemed normal, and he motioned for Laurnia to grab it. She hesitated but pulled out the solitary apple. As soon as this was done a purple smoke seeped out from a worm’s opening in the apple. Soon a purple haze came over the two of them. Before the poisonous smoke could do its worth, the Sheep pounded his cane to the ground causing a glowing cyclone to hoist up the apple and cast it into the River Hernad. With this a banshee with translucent features quickly ascended into the heavens and the raven flew off in haste. With that too, Laurnia and the Philosophical Sheep decided to take leave of each others company. The Sheep summoned the Metal Cyclops and the two departed.