"I'm lost, aren't I?" Edmund says to no one in particular. This isn't an unusual turn of events - Peter might know Narnia like the back of his hand already, but Edmund gets lost regularly and has yet to memorize every single map he's ever seen (a talent Peter seems to think is absolutely normal).
"That depends," somebody nearby says, "on how you define lost, and where you were going." He jumps and looks around, but there isn't anything there that could possibly be the deep voice he just heard, is there.
"Well, I've cracked up," he announces. "Knew it was coming any day now. If Peter won't go insane, I guess I have to."
"That statement does not make any sense," the deep voice says, and he pinpoints it to a rather large willow standing on the side of the road.
"You're talking, aren't you?" he says, and sits down in the middle of the road. "Why does everything in Narnia talk?! It's like a giant conspiracy to make sure everything that ever happens to me gets noticed!"
There is a long pause.
"I'm not sure I follow you at all," the willow says, and he can see the faint outlines of the old man lounging inside the trunk. "But yes, it's me talking."
"Well, I am lost," Edmund announces. "And this time I really don't care who hears it." He crosses his legs and tilts his head back to the sun. "Besides," he adds. "The others will come looking for me eventually, and Peter's been needing a break anyways. He does too much paperwork. I bet his tan starts fading any day now."
Edmund and a talking willow.
"That depends," somebody nearby says, "on how you define lost, and where you were going." He jumps and looks around, but there isn't anything there that could possibly be the deep voice he just heard, is there.
"Well, I've cracked up," he announces. "Knew it was coming any day now. If Peter won't go insane, I guess I have to."
"That statement does not make any sense," the deep voice says, and he pinpoints it to a rather large willow standing on the side of the road.
"You're talking, aren't you?" he says, and sits down in the middle of the road. "Why does everything in Narnia talk?! It's like a giant conspiracy to make sure everything that ever happens to me gets noticed!"
There is a long pause.
"I'm not sure I follow you at all," the willow says, and he can see the faint outlines of the old man lounging inside the trunk. "But yes, it's me talking."
"Well, I am lost," Edmund announces. "And this time I really don't care who hears it." He crosses his legs and tilts his head back to the sun. "Besides," he adds. "The others will come looking for me eventually, and Peter's been needing a break anyways. He does too much paperwork. I bet his tan starts fading any day now."