Words of the Constant
It's a red mushroom.
They have their own schedule.
I think I broke it.
Fire makes me nervous.
Reeds.
They'll be back.
I could find a use for'em.
I'm still not convinced plaid isn't all-weather wear.
I don't plan on fixing that.
What's this all aboot?
This has been around awhile.
Hey there, little buddy.
Who nose what that is, eh?
Must have been some important lady.
Oh. This one looks valuable.
How did it get burned?!
I don't trust all this science stuff.
Well, it obeys some basic laws of physics.
This is getting strange.
Nope, lost it.
Okay, I kind of get it now.
This is why I don't use hat warmers.
I like to call it the "Hat Machine"!
Doesn't seem like the best place, but here I am.
I don't look as good burnt.
I look good in wood.
I don't know if I should touch it.
What a snotty little jerk.
Don't get comfortable, birdie.
Go fly south or something!
It's stealing my warmth.
They're trapped!
I could break it down if I tried hard enough.
Could make a decent little inukshuk with these.
Lobster supper time!
That's a rock, eh?
Bet I could break that.
It makes my hands all sooty.
We should flip it.
Home sweet home!
Back home, they never melt.
Back home, they never melt.
It's looking a tad crusty.
Needs more... wood?
A fire that needs no wood? Unnn-natural!
It looks like it could break.
It's uh, a moon rock.
There's a fire burning within it.
Three times the horrible.
Chopping that is almost as enjoyable as wood.