[ There's a really strong urge to smack that pipe out of Gandalf's hands, but Mafuyu valiantly restrains herself.
Gandalf's storybook looks like a regular old storybook, what with dragons and soldiers carrying swords, and Mafuyu almost expects to see a princess on the next page as she goes from standing on her tip-toes to try to peer at the pages from afar, to inching close enough that she's leaning over Gandalf's shoulder instead. The book is so thick and he's so old, there must be so much illustrated in this book, compared to Mafuyu's own which can't be more than several dozen pages long, thin and balanced on her head to keep the sun off her face, the only good use she's found for it. ]
Which one's you? Who were you fighting? Did you win?
b
Gandalf's storybook looks like a regular old storybook, what with dragons and soldiers carrying swords, and Mafuyu almost expects to see a princess on the next page as she goes from standing on her tip-toes to try to peer at the pages from afar, to inching close enough that she's leaning over Gandalf's shoulder instead. The book is so thick and he's so old, there must be so much illustrated in this book, compared to Mafuyu's own which can't be more than several dozen pages long, thin and balanced on her head to keep the sun off her face, the only good use she's found for it. ]
Which one's you? Who were you fighting? Did you win?