So, the time has come, again, for us – as in myself, Poppy, Peregryne, Penguin, and Dakota, who is definitely MIA right now – to settle down. And I know where I want us to live, because you know, we like made it and all, and so I have to march merrily to the castle to ask Arthur, who is apparently some big shot king or something, if we can live there. But apparently I’m not allowed to say things like “are you really a big shot king?” because he might get offended. But that’s dumb, I’m not exactly being rude. What’s his deal?

I hate walking but it’s either that or flying. I could use my own wings but that always ends in disaster, or I could hop on Perry but since he’s fucked off to goodness knows where, I have no other option. So I walk. Walk, walk, walk. I whistle a tune – I’m amazing at whistling, still – which passes the time a bit but my feet still hurt when I finally arrive. Who decided to put the castle so far away from everything else ever? Idiots.

I knock on some door and open it and there’s Arthur the king (yeah, I skipped some stuff out because it was just about me walking through the castle and not getting lost, not at all, that would be embarrassing) and I bow a bit because it feels right. "Hello ... sir?." Is that right? Are kings also sirs? Dunno, guess we’ll find out. "I have come to speak to you about perhaps taking over a land, perchance, if your lordness allows it." Those are posh enough words.
"I want Ily Moor, if that’s cool. Is that cool? Do I like, have to pay or something?" I don’t know how this works. Maybe I haven’t been polite enough. I add, "Please?"
There. That should do it.