Something was making its way up the Malhawk’s engine, which could be identified by the sound of miniature bombs and vrooming of a motorbike. Dingo, who looked as if he had seen a ghost,  hid in the ship’s balloon floating in different directions. Gabby, whose eyes adjusted to the darkness as the twinkled in the hints of the moon, could model a dark figure in the distance.  It had a colourful hue yet scars and metal claws flourished out the colours and Christine saw a titanic parrot brought from the dead.  “IT’S A TRAPPER! said Gabby, AND IT LOOKS WORSE THAN ANY OTHER.” Gabby, whose eyebrows brushed along her squinted eyes, helped the trapped bird upon the ship’s deck as it tripped several times.

“It must have had very loving owners if it is this injured.” Said Dingo

“It probably roamed free in the park and got lost.”

The trapper was shivering, you could just imagine the icicles forming on its beak it looked like it had frostbite. Dingo rushed off in tears, he was hiding something. He rushed off to get slarnberries that helped it a little bit.