The Island of Misfit Toys

Rhyme guessed that the man was finding a den for himself, and he couldn’t help but admire the similar choice in destination. Though the Imperialis did not sleep under the earth he did have a favored large mature tree to sleep under. Though he had chosen a maple, the whirly-gig seeds were much more amusing than acorns falling on his head. He smiled at the similar greeting but shook his head as Ody was unsure if he’d claimed an already claimed spot.

He drew near enough for comfortable conversation and seated himself. "No, not at all." Rhyme assured him. "Rhyme Imperialis, Shaye’s second. I assumed you were Odysseus?" He asked with a quick tilt of his head with his half question.