Kate-Lynn turned to watch a fleeting sliver of Josua's leg as he disappeared beyond the sill. Uncle Darling stood gaping, dictionary in hand, as the girls ran up to the sill. A moment passed before laughing could be heard from below, the kind of merry chuckle which boggles the minds of sensible people. Josua looked up and saw two tiny heads poking out of the portal, as he dangled by his pants, the cuff of which was securely wound about a nail too snug to budge.
"Are you absolutely daft?" James scolded. "You could have been hurt! Madness!"
Then, the pants began to tear.
James Darling shuffled as fast as his weight could bear him, the girls could not tell to where. Too late, the garment freed itself from the stubborn stud and Josua's light frame collapsed a short distance onto the top of an eave. The tauny eave proved the sole bulwark to a disastrous calamady upon some firewood.
"Owww." He rubbed his head. "Perhaps I need some wings."
Are you okay?
What were you thinking?
You are in his head. You figure it out.
You are, too. You were frightened.
Yes, shut up.
"Look!" Josua pointed at the old book from his roost. A bit of smoke rose from between the leaves. They opened the book.
What the heck does that mean?
James popped out from around the corner, huffing as he came.
"Uncle, what's bulwark mean?" The girls cried from above.
"What do you mean what does bulwark mean? Go call someone, we may need help."
He reached out for Josua's scrawny arm.
"Come down, boy" he pleaded. "Have you broken anything?"
"No." Josua replied, shamelessly.
"I'll tell you this, you try that again, I'll be forced to board those windows. That, my boy, is a bulwark. That's what I'll need, to keep you safe."
And it started to drizzle.