Gazing without intention, distracted, the dogs crept up and circled him.
Instead of a head there was an opalescent white globe, swiveling.
Mandibles chomped down repeatedly, stronger and more desperate each time.
Bundled up in the bottom of the basket was something furry with too many ears.
At first it grabbed him affectionately, but quickly it became more voracious.
Prehistoric spines radiated with energy and the group of worshipers banged on pots and pans.
They’d accept the judgment of the Cephalopods, but they didn’t have to like it.
A soft green moss had grown over everything. They pecked at it cautiously.
The hissing lizards tightened the circle. “OK, let’s try something else”, he said.
“It was a sort of half raccoon, half pidgeon, half termite.” he said. “That’s too many halfs.” she replied.
They were like house cats, but ten times larger and dumb as rocks.
When the animals spoke to her, she sighed and said “Yes, of course.”
“Are we here?” The brutality of the landscape and the sudden loss of their memory made navigation difficult.