[ She glances at Amos helplessly before looking back at the wing, flogging her brain in the hope that it might suddenly dispense genius-level solutions. ]
Maybe... oh no.
[ She panics when the wing wiggles away from itself. She automatically pokes the escaping half with a ginger finger to try to get it to stick to the web alongside its other half. What happens instead is that half of the half sticks to the web; the remaining quarter crumbles to dozen fragments like a fall leaf under a boot.
no subject
Maybe... oh no.
[ She panics when the wing wiggles away from itself. She automatically pokes the escaping half with a ginger finger to try to get it to stick to the web alongside its other half. What happens instead is that half of the half sticks to the web; the remaining quarter crumbles to dozen fragments like a fall leaf under a boot.
Gray snatches her hand back in horror. ]
Mr. Amos!
[ help ]