Cassiopeia's View ooga-chaka ooga ooga

She was by far the worst hostess he had ever met. Clearly she did not want company. With a shrug he attempted to appear indifferent, but caught the shift of her eyes, and so he watched them — trailing where they looked until he spied the geese as well. Hmm! Yummy!

Aw, I was hoping to have a party up here with you. He called back to her, but his attention followed the wandering geese far below; for all intents and purposes, Dingo's expression was cat-like with his pupils dilated and everything — looking more like a house cat which had just spotted movement. It was probably just the altitude sickness.

Without further ado, he began to jaunt down the mountainside. At first Dingo toiled alongside the ridge, but when it became clear that the natural path swept away from the targets he forged his own — essentially following through with Pallas' suggestion of leaping off the mountain. As he sprang on, tumbling but staying relatively upright, the boy crested beyond a cluster of sheer boulders — but his voice carried back, as he shouted jovially, See ya never, toots!

Maybe if he was lucky he could snap a few necks, fill his belly, and get off this damn mountain!