I looked at The Wooden Man, looking at me obliviously.

“Did you see that?” I asked.

“See what?” He asked.

“The crow bashed it’s face in on that gravestone.” I said.

“What crow?” He said, a questioning look in his eyes.

I frowned at him.

“It’s something wrong?” The Wooden Man asked calmly.

I shook my head. “No. I’m feeling a little off today.”

“Off?” The scarecrow sounded alarmed. “Are you sure something isn’t wrong?“

He obviously didn’t understand what I meant. I smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

I finished carving Clayton’s head stone. All of the sudden, The Scarecrow raised an arm and the gravestone fell to ash.

“What did you do that for” I asked, distressed. “I spent a long time carving that.”

“Watch” The wooden Man said.

He guided the ashes is a cloud over Clayton the scarecrow’s post, and left it there.