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Beltruckus never skis. In fact, he likes to waddle around the resort in his moonboots, brandishing one ski-pole at any stray snowboarders crossing his path. 12 o'clock might see him on a heady run up the cable car for lunch with a view and his more reckless friends; but by late afternoon he'll be safely back in that dear little secondhand bookshop by the ice rink, devouring last pages from a variety of mouldering tomes.
Last edited by castex; 08-19-2003 at 01:56 PM..
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