The poison o’ the Bad Berries spread all ‘cross Margarita Menagerie like rain river.
Orval could only see how bad ’twas for each animal with his Spectroglasses, which glowed a sour blue for those hit the strongest & a flat red for those barely affected. Those unaffected had no glow @ all. E’en in autumn, the sight o’ all these neon lights wandering Worcestershire Woods popped it full o’ mo’ color than it e’er had before.
But Orval’s mind was somewhere else as he etched off the color next to each individual animal’s # on his pad.
He muttered to himself, “They’re still not done. Peace or no peace, they won’t stop till they’re stopped.”