Puck was petrified beyond his imagination. He couldn't dare to move an inch from where he stood, and he was confused whether it was even allowed to reach out and scratch that inconsolable itch that suddenly developed at his back.
The healer that Sir Arthur had mentioned was a mix of everything Puck never knew could be so ugly.
A monster's face, disfigured and wrinkly, a stocky built that was patchy in some places, limbs reaching the floor and nails as dirty and unkempt you could start a mini garden with the dirt that accumulated underneath.
"Dream ssspirit, what do you offer for such a ssservice of mine?" the healer hissed and his body was like a snake that slithered sluggishly as he moved closer to Sir Arthur.
The black cat gazed at the healer's eyes and without an ounce of emotion, he responded, "I offer you none, daemon. You owe me from the last time."
Last time?
