Q - Quirkizil

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Year of study: fourth

Assignment type: paired (without mentor)

“This is so lame,” says Dale as I open a doorway to the faerie paths. “It’s just one of those little quarkazole thingies.”

“Quirkizil,” I correct, widening the doorway.

“Whatever. My point is, they’re not even dangerous. I could handle this perfectly fine on my own.”

“Sure,” I say. “I’m happy to stand back and watch while you take care of the situation. Now let’s go.” I hold my hand out. We have to maintain contact while traveling the faerie paths, or we may not arrive at the same place. Not that I’d mind if Dale ended up somewhere far away. He hesitates, eyeing my hand suspiciously. “Jeez, Dale, it’s not like I have a disease, you know.”

“That’s not what I heard,” mutters Dale.

“Excuse me?

“Nothing, let’s just do this.” He grasps my pinkie finger and tugs me into the darkness.

We step out on the other side to find a pink and purple bedroom in complete chaos. A small girl and four quirkizils are jumping madly about on a bed, flinging pillows, toys and stuffed animals around the room. I dodge a flying teacup. “Well, this looks like fun,” I say to Dale. “I believe it’s time for you ‘handle’ this?”

“Right.” He takes a step toward the bed. The quirkizils, looking like nothing more than balls of wispy hair attached to two spindly legs, freeze. Then, with squeals of glee, they leap off the bed and onto Dale. He takes a step back, trips on a Barbie car, and hits the ground.

“Ah—help me—I can’t—ah—AAAAH!” The quirkizils scurry all over him, bouncing, poking and tickling. “Violet!” he gasps. “Get them—get them—aaaah—off me!”

I cross my arms and lean against the wall, working hard to suppress a laugh. “But I thought you could handle this perfectly fine on your own, Dale?”

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