Page 68 of Lana Pecherczyk
“Knew it.” He dropped his hand an inch. “Here?”
“Lower.”
Two inches. “Here?”
“Keep going.” Another inch. “No—a little lower.”
“Fuck me, was he a pixie?”
She chuckled. “He reached my height, barely.”
“Ahh. That explains everything.” He scratched a mark into the tree and began chipping away bark. “Small cock syndrome.”
“You mean small man syndrome?”
“That’s what I said. Probably why he looked like this.”
She walked over to stand behind his shoulder. “Are you carving his face?”
“Yep.” The tip of River’s tongue poked out as he concentrated and chipped away at the wood.
“Don’t you want to know what he looked like?”
“Nope.”
Chip. Chip. Cut.
“Okay, but what’s that weird mushroom shape on his head …? Oh.Ooh.” Laughter burst from her chest. “You’re drawing a penis with eyes.”
“Yep.” He carved the final details, then stepped back to admire his work. “Spitting image, right?”
“Perfect.” She had to admit, he’d captured the essence in record time.
River slanted her an amused look. “Now show that fucker what you really think of him.”
“We probably shouldn’t ruin a perfectly good tree.”
“Feel free to fuck it up. It’s not an Oak Man.”
“What’s that?”
“A man who is also an oak. Ergo, an Oak Man. They exist. But not here. Too warm. Okay, so here we go. Aim to put that pointy end into the?—”
“But what if thereisa man inside the tree?” Her jaw dropped. “And we just defaced him with a dick?”
Blake shuddered. Stranger things had happened in this place.
“There’s no man inside that tree. Trust me. There’s nothing else around here to stab except me.” He pointed the dagger at his face. “And this masterpiece is the opposite of a dick.”
“A puckered asshole?”
“What?”
“You know.” She pointed at her butt. “Because it’s on the opposite side to a dick.”
He pouted. “You think I have an ass face?”
More laughter bubbled from her chest. “No, of course not!”
