Sustra and the Glimpse of Dangling Wires

“Whoever invented Fall deserves to be shot!” proclaimed Dogoro, attempting to spit another errant bit of floral debris out of his face. Being merely a hat, he found the task difficult. However, his dutiful sacrifice at least spared his wearer the inconvenience of tumbling leaves and falling tree nuts smacking into her face.

Sustra said nothing, continuing down the forest path. She rather liked the scenic view of acres of trees splashing autumn colors over the rolling hills.

“Our next mission will be to find the God of Fall, and string her up by her ankles! Try Falling then, you harvest-haired trollop!”

Sustra glanced up at the vocal cloth adorning her head. “Your puns are slacking again.”

Dogoro scoffed. “You’re give me nothing to work with, damn you! Must you always be so silent? This is why everyone says you have no personality!”