Creakle
an excerpt

“Found a place to stow away yet?” Minyute asked brightly.
“Obviously,” Archibald drawled, “Unlike some, I am always prepared.”
“You weren’t prepared that time we were coming back from the pub, and that psychic llama attacked us…”
“Shhh, I was drunk, it doesn’t count!”
Minyute flapped over to Nyta’s abandoned backpack, and if it had been possible to smirk with a beak, he would have done, “Tell that to Garnet. I’m sure he’ll refrain from having you attacked next time you go on a drinking spree, if you just let him know in advance.”
“Sure, sure,” Archibald muttered, cleaning his face irritably, “Anyway, we survived, didn’t we?”
“Yes, because a stray sheep was passing and came to our aid."