Thank you, Black Dragon. Just a question: Did anybody figure out the password's "secret"? I'm serious. There's something hidden in the password. Oh, well. Back to the fic.
The two Scrabs plunged deeper into the woods. Suddenly, there was a squeaking sound from under Daknar's feet. "What the-" he asked no one in particular. "Slurgs!" Carobrite shouted. "But that means..." plop. plop. "Fleeches!" both Scrabs shouted at once. Three sharp, pink tongues coiled themselves around Carobrite's feet and legs. She toppled to the ground from the force acting on her legs. As she was being dragged, Carobrite tried to use her lower jaw to get traction on the ground, but it was no use. Daknar rushed past her and into a bush. There were sounds of a struggle, then Daknar came out of the bushes, Fleech blood dripping from his mouth. Carobrite stood up. Her legs were lacerated, but it wasn't serious. It would heal. plop. plop. "More!" Daknar yelled. This time, the tongues were whipping at Daknar. He howled, and started spinning in a tornado of raven-black fur, destroying the Fleeches. plop, polp, plop, plop, plop. "There's too many!" Carobrite warned Daknar. "You're right," he replied, "we have to run!" The two ran as fast as all four legs could carry them. They reached an old concrete building with a rotting wood door. Carobrite kicked the door in with both right legs, then they both ran inside. The room they were in had the awful stench of rotting meat. Ignoring the smell, the Scrabs wandered on. Suddenly, they heard a voice in the language shared by the Sligs, Mudokons, and Glukkons. "Who's there?" it said. "Whoever you are, help me!" it shouted. The two Scrabs walked toward the direction of the voice.
Ack! Brain-dead! Oh, well. End of part two.
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