Queen Pirouette rose from the soft pallet of blankets on the lawn of the garden. She’d decided to take a nap, alone, among the flowers that she loved. It was hard not to worry when King GarGar was off fighting a campaign. At night, all the cares and worries of the day seemed to press down on her, robbing her of sleep and making her head pound. It was Spring, and so there were many blossoms to delight her gaze, and buds, the promise of yet more, were aplenty.
King GarGar winced as the field doctor probed the wound on his thigh. While not life-threatening, it was terribly painful. GarGar was usually stoic in the face of pain, but this occasion was an exception. More than anything, he was afraid of losing the admiration of his men. “For God’s sake!” He shouted. “Give me a piece of wood to bite on!” At this, one of his captains left the tent and returned a minute later with a stick. “Give it to me!” GarGar snapped. He took the stick and bit down with all his might. I want to be as silent as a clam. He thought to himself.