Nope try again.
<br/>You look down and are shocked to see how slow you are rising above the lake and getting slower. Your flying ability has been seriously impared. It doesn't matter, not right this second; you need to get to shore! You coil your tentacles around your waist like living belts (no sense in letting them dangle) and glide, catching your breath, for a precious few seconds. When you're only a yard or so above the lake's surface, you flap some more; again, the gain in altitude is significantly less than it should be, considering how much effort you're expending. <br/> <br/>You make it to the shore and collapse with exhaustion. Your now very hungry, and very tired, and very thirsty—you feel like you could swallow a gallon of water, or maybe three. Fortunately, there's a whole lake full of... fresh water..? No! You abruptly realize that you're walking back to the water, or maybe 'stumbling' is a better word. It doesn't matter; you lurch around, clumsy with your hind legs replaced by a fishtail, using your forelegs and tentacles for all they're worth, and scrambling uphill, away from the deadly, seductive lake. <br/> <br/>By the time you get to the top however your hands, tentacles and tail are screaming out for moisture. Dry, dry,dry! You manage to extract a book from your saddlebags (your hands are decidedly lacking in dexterity, now) and... yes! You find a water creation spell! For a moment, you hesitate; but your thirst, and very uncomfortable dryness, overrule whatever indistinct objections your subconscious mind isn't letting you in on. <br/> <br/>
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Written by Catprog & Cubist on 01 November 2010
