Chapter Eight Page 11
Ann’s Being: We’re in a forest environment. Trees, rocks, plants everywhere. A stream nearby.
Cub’s gone into adult form. Dressed fancy, too.
Park: Cub, go show Walker your outfit.
Walker: Hm, quality fabric . . . I like the contrasting textures. And, ooh, are those leather gloves? Daring!
A bit too flashy for me, though, I must say. Let’s have a more traditional suit, shall we? Not that a modern cut would go amiss.
Ann’s Being: Consider it done, boss.
Let me show you to your seat.
Walker: Thank you, dear.
(URGH, UGH, MANLY GRUNTING)
Walker: Leather gloves, hm?
Park: It was his idea.