It was the fullest, richest part of the summer in New England. The afternoon shadows were lengthening, the blackberries were deep purple and plump on the cane, and the soft breezes sifted the yellow powder from the fuzzy yellow goldenrod blossoms. The bees were starting to show some wear and tear, and the occasional "plonk!" of a shiny new acorn could be heard beneath the oaks. It was the end of August, and the hoomins packed up their suitcases, and left the house for their annual vacation. The dog, the Noble Allis Chompers was dropped off to spend the time with local family. Arrangements were made with the nice girl down the street to check in on Ping and Puma, and France, the Fricken' Pygmy Hedgehog every day. The hoomins would be gone for ten days. But while they were gone, someone was coming over for an extended stay in the country...the Otters. When we left off... The room fell silent once more, and finally France piped up with steel in her voice "So whaaat are we goin' do about eet?" At this both the First and the Second otters smiled bitter smiles. The Second said from his place sitting on the floor "Why, make *s'mores*, of course!" *S'mores?" asked Puma. "What are those?" And the otters began to grin, even more wickedly... "OH!! I KNOW!!" yelled Ping. "Good stuff! Really good hoomin food with *chocolate*!" "Yes," said the Second otter. "They are *delightful*!" To Puma's inquisitive look he explained "It is a melted chololate and marshmallow sandwich between crunchy graham crackers. My brother and I prefer them with sardines, or smoked oysters, but they are good just by themselves, too." At that Puma's jaw dropped open, and Ping yelled "DUDES! let's make some now!" "Well," said the First otter, "we need a fire to roast the marshmallows. I think that one of those new *condominiums* they are building down by what's left of the creek might burn merrily!" "DELIGHTFUL idea!" enthused the Second otter. This exchange just plain shocked Ping and Puma to silence. Burn down one of the new condominiums? That was... a *bad* thing, and they knew it. Fire was bad. That was why animals didn't play with it. Puma decided it was time to concentrate on her mantra, this entire exchange had unsettled her.She wanted to regain her center very badly. Quietly, she turned and padded away to the bathroom and hid beneath the clean towels on the shelf next to the shower. She did not come out. Ping and France made eye contact, but it was always difficult for him to know what the little Hedgehog was thinking. Playing with fire...That sounded like something France might actually *enjoy*. There was another one of those long silences, broken when France said quietly "Non. Non non non. I weeel not be like dem, de bad hoomins. Dee ones who hurrt, an' destroy, 'an do not care. Dey haff no honor, 'an I 'ate dem." With that France turned, and walked back into the guest room, and began the climb back into her habitat. She snuggled down into her sleepy sack, and said nothing more. That left only Ping, and the otters... End Part Six Alexandra in MA [Posted in FML issue 5370]