The incident on the Bridge of Caldering was already destined for song. Crawley was spinnin’ verses:

O Hem the Younger indeed he was
Fightin’ here and fightin’ there
Takin’ on a jibberjab just because
He had no lass to call fair

That day began upon the Bridge
And then before any could move
Some shriekin’ thing below the ridge
Came sshrrrrrrrriieeeeekin’ along all fast and smooth

O!
Hey!
Hem saves the day!

O!
Why?!
Because he thought he’d give a grand ol’ heave ho and lug hisself along the Bridge of Caldering straight at that jibberjab and send it along into THE SKY!!

O Hem the Younger indeed he was
Fightin’ here and fightin’ there
Takin’ on a jibberjab just because
He just was lookin’ to find a lass fair.

“Into the rubbish pile with that, Crawley my lad,” grumbled Hem around the scorched meat he was puttin’ in his mouth. They had crossed the Bridge of Caldering some hours earlier and decided to set up camp on account of the sun passin’ over Nurmermer Canyon. The temperature had fallen into the Shivers so it was time for a crackly old fire.

“What’s our plan then, hey?” Bram spoke up, ignoring Crawley’s croonin’.

“Well ain’t seen aught of them Nurmermermaids,” said Hem. “Reckon we oughta snag a glimpse or two of them creatures.

“Aye,” said Crawley. Crawley was just Crawley. “They’re here and there, they say.”

“Who say?” said one of the other two characters.

“They.”

“Right then. Well I reckon we can stay for some of the day tomorrow if we don’t see anything in the night. Catcher’s Moon’s on the rise.”

“Catcher’s Moon’s always on the rise,” he said.

“Well that’s the way of it,” he replied.

“I happen to enjoy the Catcher’s Moon, if I say so,” he said.

“Aye that’s fair. My intuition suggests most people do,” he said, “that’s mayhap the reason it shows up so often.”

“What are we even talkin’ about?” he asked, confused beyond measure.

“Whoever’s talkin’ has to decide that,” he replied with the confidence of no one. “Pass me another meat pile.”

He passed it.

“Trouble with the scene,” he muttered between bites of that delicious meat pile.

“No Nurmermaids,” he said in answer. “What else do ya expect?”

“Aye.”