Toby Ron looked at the retreating figures of Foxy Loxy, Turkey Lurkey and Weasel. “Well, that went all right.”
William looked at him, puzzled. “But we didn’t really tell them anything!”
“No,” Toby shrugged, “but they don’t seem to think you’re involved now.”
“But what if I am involved?” cried Billy.
“I think you should go and see Mystic Mog again. Hopefully, she’ll be able to tell you after last night.”
Billy did not look too pleased at this suggestion but began wandering towards the gate. Toby stopped him.
“But not until you’ve finished getting rid of those daisies,” he told the young goat.
“S’alright, Billy.” William told him. “I’ll help.”
Mrs Goat smiled at one son while scowling at the other – something only mothers can really pull off. “Aren’t you a little angel? Billy, why can’t you be more like William?
“Goody goody,” muttered Billy as they wandered towards the floral region of the paddock.
“I heard that!” scolded their mum. “You should be nicer to your brother. Especially after he made sure you were OK last night.”
William stayed quiet. He was still feeling bad about losing Billy last night but not bad enough to own up to any failure in front of his mother. Particularly not when she was in this kind of mood. Biting his lip, William attacked the first patch of flowers. He just hoped that Toby Ron was right and Mystic Mog would have some answers.