Blink, and another ten or eleven days go by. November is nigh, the Rhinos are restless.I've got the shadowy form of a book in my head -- tall tales from a daredevil bicycle troupe set around the late 19th/early 20th century. There will be pigs, and hearts broken, and disguises, and ghosts, and chaos. It may be scary in one point (cf. ghosts) and silly in others (cf. pigs.) The Beast is situated, there's a ribbon inking in a baggie, the Rhino is perched and there's paper standing by.
Ten days. Two hands' worth of fingers. It's gonna go fast.