Bad Brush

As they walked, Tellerick guided his charge in the creation of soap bubbles from nothing. They floated on the breeze, little balls of glistening colour.

Kralla, Skaran and Barnabas trailed behind the pair.

"So... Barnabas... Your, er, tail..."

"It's a skin condition!" He moaned. "Everyone thinks I've got mange!"

Kralla, fiddled with her hat. "Sorry, I had to ask..."

Barnabas sighed. "I wish it was a bushier brush..." He reached into a pocket and brought out a small jar. "I have cream for it! Master Tamryn said it will go away in a few weeks. It's not really my fault."