Early Riser

“Is Toccata around?” I asked. “I could tell her.”
“Clearly, you don’t know Toccata, and no, she’s off-duty.”
“It’s probably important enough to interrupt her break,” I persisted.
“It doesn’t work that way. And besides, if she thinks you were in any way to blame for Logan‘s death, well, I don’t much care for your chances.”
“C’mon,” I said, having always thought the stories about Toccata were overblown, as was almost everything in the Winter, “she can’t be that volatile.”
“She punched me in the eye so hard she detached my retina,” he said, “and all I did was place the preposition at the end of the sentence.”

Last week the hiburnal elks had their antlers trimmed and six of the eighty-nine cow-mammoths had their coats brushed. And inside the house "continued Ichabod, "the raisins were all picked of out the muesli, Gretl's 'The king and I' album was stolen and I found all the books on my shelves reordered."
"Alphabetically ?" asked Lloyd.
"No - by merit."
"Ah"
None but the Wintervolk would be so eccentrically daring.