Slowly, without alerting his fellows, Perry started toward the rock in full sun, hoping against hope it would be warmer there. Anything was better than standing barefoot on the ice. For ages, he had hidden his affliction, but today it was unbearable. His feet burned something awful.
“Where ya going, Perry?” Buster asked. Dang. Busted. “Oh, nowhere, just ambling,” Perry said, hoping Buster wasn’t gonna be his usual overcurious self and want to come along.
This was just way too embarrassing. Some penguin I am, Perry sighed to himself as he inched forward. What kind of penguin gets cold feet?
“Where ya going, Perry?” Buster asked. Dang. Busted. “Oh, nowhere, just ambling,” Perry said, hoping Buster wasn’t gonna be his usual overcurious self and want to come along.
This was just way too embarrassing. Some penguin I am, Perry sighed to himself as he inched forward. What kind of penguin gets cold feet?
