The Catcher’s Moon was high and cold and the night air bristled with sharp needles as Blom and Gack rounded the last corner on their occasional night stroll. Blom liked to do these lil’ things when the occasion felt right and given the AUTUMN STORMS were always on the prowl. What’s with those Storms hey? We’ll find out I hope. Lots of scenes left.

FOR NOW it’s Blom and Gack havin’ a walk. We’ll be continuin’ this scene later on account of the lateness of the hour.

Good mornin’ everyone let’s get back to Blom and Gack here. Gilba Gilba was often peaceful-like when the Moon was in the air.

“Weather’s turnin’,” remarked Gack with a timely shiver. He adjusted his overcoat. We don’t see Gack doin’ much farming but that’s on account of the Autumn season. Come springtime he’s out there with the best of ‘em puttin’ his back into it. Old Gack’s back still had some sprites in it.

“Aye, any day now we’ll be gettin’ another of them Storms,” Blom remarked, puffin’ on his t’backer.

“We have to get our stocks wrapped up in preparation for them things. Too many times in past years we been caught unawares.” Gack was just in a reflectin’ sorta mood. He didn’t need to be doin’ all this talking but the Catcher’s Moon brings out the weirds.

“Aye.”

“Not to mention our stores will get a lil’ soaked. I’m all set o’ course but on the occasional day I do think about Heemee out there in the Wildness, or Teevee and her tavern what with the way they been runnin’ things.”

“How they been runnin’ things?”

“Oh I ain’t sayin’ who’s doin’ what or what’s been doin’ up out there in that there hey situation on account of the smallness of the town,” Gack deflected, fully under the influence of the Moon at this point. Blom pretended to listen by not listening.

“And besides such things,” Gack rambled on, head bobbing like a floater in the rivers, “we got ourselves a fine lil’ system out there on ol’ Gack’s Farm if I be sayin’ so. Why, last year I had to boot Gargmer off the property for inspectin’ the efficiency of my operation! Never trusted that lad, Gargmer.”

A dim light appeared ahead of them in the darkness, some flickerin’ torch or lantern or some such. Blom winced as his bad hip flared up again, a reminder of his age and the questionable choices he’d made in his last career. His breath slowed as he tried to make out the figure behind the fire. Just Constable Hur, it turned out.

“Evenin’, gents,” Hur called. He was leaned up agin’ a lantern post, eyein’ up the walkers and in general projectin’ a spirit of menace. Blom had a suspicion of Hur that he couldn’t pinpoint on account of his slipperiness.

“Evenin’, Constable,” Blom replied.

“Mind if I talk to ya two fellas for a docket?”