top border
top-right border
bottom-right border
bottom border
top-left border
top border

Tumbling from the fir’s branches like a sword from the stone, keys of silver hit the ground, prone. Time stops. Confusion spreads - Gorgesus croaks at Rankus, “IF YOU PICK UP THOSE KEYS, YOU’RE DEAD” Mewn, feeling his age like a wrinkly balloon, will fall out of the sky unless he gets sap soon.

9 / 11