The secretary of the Council whose job was to prepare the files for weekly Council meetings never gaped his mouth for so long in his entire decade of office career. If he could grab a bag of his favourite roasted peanuts, he would do so and cross his legs to watch the unfolding drama.
"The pattern of his energy that matched the lightning strike is a matter worth investigation," General Spring's resolute voice heard next.
The lady of the South Manor had come early for this morning meeting, usually held at 9 a.m. on Tuesdays. With her usual prim and proper looks, although the rest of the Council members knew that she shed her layers of clothing easily when the other Guardians approached her, she trotted confidently to present her case.
