The oars dipped into the malty water. It took a lot of muscle to move through the thickening liquid but at least it wasn’t easy to tip. The old bear peered over the side. Not even a reflection anymore, the beautiful blue just a memory. He rowed on. Finally they reached the fluid’s edge and he leapt well clear of it onto the land. His joints jarred on impact.
“Are you coming or are you just going to flap there?” Petsy asked.
“Oh yes, I’m coming, wouldn’t want to miss a minute of it! You just make sure you catch me this time!” tooted Pin Pot.
“What do you mean this time? There hasn’t been a single time that I haven’t caught you.”
“Well you just wait till you don’t catch me and then you’re really in for it!” he squeaked and jumped from the rim of the boat into Petsy’s waiting paws.
“There Pin Pot, you live to see another day.”
“Many more days like these and I’m not so sure that’s a good thing!” he trumpeted, climbing onto Petsy’s shoulder.
“Oh you do go on,” he sighed and they walked into the tunnels in search of a Soul Seeker.