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Gillian
Gillian sat back and regarded the little construction cautiously. He had found its making surprisingly enjoyable but now it came to it . . .
Ainyra had proved usefully deft with a needle and thread and had made a serviceable ‘body’ from some thin leathery material that they’d stuffed with sand. Rather than worry about legs they decided to allow it to move around by dragging itself with its arms and, where possible, climbing and brachiating. They had elected to make the thing wider at the base so it would be stable when stationary. Kuan had molded a head from clay and inserted a spike of wood into it and then through to the vaguely conical body giving the thing a total height of just under twelve inches. The four arms (two on each side and one front and back) were made of pliable rope Gillian had cut to length and attached but the ‘hands’ – the hands . . .
Gillian looked across to Kuan. “Are you sure about the monkey paws? It seems a little bit necromantic to me and, besides, there were only six in the jar.”
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