We hopped for twenty-seven days and twenty-six nights. Twenty-six. Fifteen of those evenings were spent in suitable establishment hovels along the boggy coast, but eleven were spent under the stars. In the open. Exposed to the elements. That was both incredible and terrible.
What was incredible? The stars. Only the Uncle knew it was that breathtaking. Being a keen enthusiast of Celestia, I’ve always prided myself on my knowledge of the heavens. But out there, with no man-made light to interfere, the effect was truly stunning. It is actually difficult to identify a patch of true-dark. The depth of the star blanket is staggering.
And then the terrible. I woke one night to find huge lizard-like eyes peering down at me. Huge. My instinct told me it was a dragon, so I leapt up and scampered from the rock right into the boggy water. Squelching around in the middy filth, the huge dragon-lizard proceeded to settle onto the rock and close its eyes. Sleeping. I had apparently stolen its spot.
“A dragon!” I pointed at the vast scaly bulk and Hop-Man opened an eye. Then closed it again.