Ara stalked out of the room, muttering mutinously to the Author, who had once again invaded his headspace:
~Hello my crazy halbreed! It's been a while hasn't it?~ it chirped irritatingly.
What do you want now? Ara growled at it. I've got problems of my own here.
~I know. I helped create them.~ Stated Author, matter of factly. ~But I have some news for you! Your story has been given a royal booting in the rear... now all it needs is you!~
WHAT!!! Ara's mental exclamation was enough to make his own head hurt. You can't make me leave now! I swore to Fish Face...
~I know, I know~ said Author ~And don't get your wings in a bunch. I won't pull you out till your part comes into the story, and that's a bit of a way off. I'm just warning you now, so's your ready to go when I call you.~
Call me? What do you mean "call me"? asked Ara, but the Author was already gone, muttering to itself in what Ara presumed was Latin. He growled and shook his head.
"Wretched thing," he muttered, striding back into the living room where Skyrah was still getting to grips with having a large horn protruding from her forehead. Ara tossed his own head and laughed as she prodded it cautiously.
"Seriously, how do you walk around with this on your head? Throws you right off balance, I'll tell you that for nothing. I like the wings though," she said, giving them an experimental flap.
Ara snickered, this was turning out to be very amusing. Author and its plot could wait, this was just too good to miss.