FORTY

“Bloody hell, we’re all gonna die!”. Sir victor cries aloud unable to keep his mutters low as his anxiety seemed to have reached it’s peak.

Never have I ever seen him so unsettled and unbalanced before as though he was being attacked spiritually. But what to do and what to say? I myself was thinking the exact same thing.

That death awaited us all as the female giant neither stopped her yelling nor did she seem to be mellowing down.

He throws his hands to his head, all hope lost as he ruffled his hair. “I’m never going to see my newborn baby boy again. I never even got to name him”.

Sir Barret grabs Sir Victor’s collar slapping some sense into him. “This isn’t the end so don’t say things like that just yet, mate. Think positively. You are still going to name that little waggort of yours”.

“Are you certain?”

“I swear by god”. Those words seemed to calm Sir Victor down a notch.

“We need to get out of here”. Aunt says concluding that it was best we start running if we were going to d
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