On the Way to the Stables; Sunday Morning [12/15].

[pun_king]

When Graham woke up and realized that the walls were gingerbread, naturally, he had to break off a piece to give it a try, taking it (and a few spare pieces stuffed into his pockets) with him on his way outside. But as he was chewing on it thoughtfully, thinking what a wonderful idea houses made of gingerbread and sweets might be, he suddenly stopped in his tracks as an odd, odd feeling fell over him.

Something like a memory, but not of anything that had happened yet. A premonition? A warning? It was the strangest thing, but he almost felt as though something was telling him to not get in the habit of eating buildings made of food...

Consequently, the taste of the gingerbread seemed to turn dry and sandy and chalky and unpleasant in his mouth. He spit it out with a wave of disgust and confusion, wondering if suddenly his tongue had broken. Should he go get it checked out at the clinic? Was he cursed? Was it the island just ensuring he didn't eat all the gingerbread buildings on the island?

Were all the buildings gingerbread?

And if the other buildings were gingerbread...

A dire thought struck him.

"Oh, no. Triumph!"

He immediately started running for the stables....hoping that they'd even still be there by the time his trusty steeds was done with it!

[[ open! Feel free to catch him en route or when he's arrived! ]]