Silver Creek i'm a good man, are you a good man, does a good man take you home?

indra looked to spring expectantly, a smile flush on her cherry-red features. stick bug! she abruptly turned back to the spindly insect, lowering her little body to the ground until her chin rested in the dirt and her stubby paws were inches from the bug's path. she peered at it quietly for a moment and then issued: "STICK BUG!" again -- the force of her voice expelling a small gale in the bug's path. the insect, visibly shaken, started to scramble away. indra eyed it suspiciously and placed her snout directly in its path. "stick bug, are you friends with ant and catapillar?"