The young, 'chosen one', Kevin, is learning about his destiny. The fall leaves are changing, his mother is being her usual self, and the poor kid has just screwed up his fifth spell covering himself in yet another layer of overly bright colored dyes. Well, better learning on dyed dolls and straw dummies than anything alive, for now. Ah, what a lovely fall day! -- Anon Guest
[AN: This prompt harkens back to Kevin Oxbrydl in this story. PLEASE give the URLs with your prompts because searching sucks time away from writing]
Wraithvine, with more than a little understanding about these matters, had set up something of a camp well upwind of the pocket of disused quarry that Kevin the Luckless was using for target practice. Ma Oxbrydl, better known as Kevin's Mum, had set up a guardian post well within melee range of the eternal wizard. Because ten minutes had passed, she had also begun a work of crochet.
The Goblin was hiding from her behind Wraithvine's leg. A point of annoyance and distraction. "Do you like being stepped on?" asked Wraithvine. "This is the fifth time I've nearly tripped over you."
Despite two days' worth of regular meals and an oath of protection from Wraithvine, the Goblin still shook like a small wet dog. She hadn't spoken either. After a few nervous glances from Wraithvine to table to Ma Oxbrydl to Kevin to a rock near her feet, she spoke. "Scut used to it."