"We're finally here. You did great." Nyashara giggled.
Her laughter bubbled up light and teasing, cutting through the early morning haze that clung to the winding cobblestone path. The sun was bright and warm, painting the clear sky in a sea blue expanse.
Right now Terrence was dressed as a green disgusting and revolting slime monster.
The costume was a masterpiece of deliberate hideousness. It was a bulbous, translucent-green bodysuit that jiggled with every step, embedded with fake bubbling pustules that glowed sickly yellow under the light. Gooey tendrils dangled from the "shoulders," dripping viscous slime that fizzed and evaporated on contact with the ground. The headpiece was a hooded blob with cartoonish googly eyes and a wide, toothy maw that flopped open and shut with each breath. It smelled faintly of cheap latex and the chemical citrus of whatever glow-in-the-dark gel they'd slathered on.
