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“Dear Weird Dog,” she said, restarting. The caiman blinked and looked sidelong at her kimeti companion. “Have you ever wanted something so bad you were willing to suffer for it? I’m still thinking about that buck we found, you know. That acha.” The caiman stared up at her, which she took as a sign the reptile remembered. “He was curled up in a ball when we found him; a miserable thing, piteous in every way. What kind of kin just... lays down like that in the middle of the swamp? No cover, half-in a puddle... it was like he wanted to die, but couldn't find an alligator big enough. And no, don't ask. I'm not going to let you eat an acha. You'd have a tummyache for days, yes you would, yesh yoooou would."
The caiman closed her eyes, accepting her friend's baby talk. It was normal for Half Truth to lose her powers of speech around her friends; Rhetorical Question, less so than Weird Dog. The caiman was used to this by now.
"Anyways, back to that stranger, because this is bothering me. He looked sick. Like, really sick. His eyes were rimmed with red, and he could barely stand. You saw me try to pull him up; his legs were... like a bunch of broken reeds. I tried yelling at him, but it was like he couldn't understand me. And... I dunno, I just don't get it. He felt like he'd been hurt badly, I mean physically. But there wasn't a scratch on him! There wasn’t a thing visually wrong with him; no broken bones, no telltale bulges at the joints or awkwardly on his ribs to indicate a fracture, no blood, no bite marks… nothing. I know what hurt looks like, but this… this was a whole new world of pain. He couldn’t even talk, not really. Kept babbling about his eyes and the desert. I don’t even know why anybody would want to go back to a desert. They sound disgusting. Sand and heat? No rain? Gross.” She knew the caiman would agree, being a creature attuned to the finer things in life, such as delicious fish, deep pools of water, and the feeling of a warm rain on your back. “What was I supposed to do? He wouldn’t move.” She sighed and rolled on her back, staring up at the sky.
Weird Dog shifted and crawled up on her friend’s stomach, hauling herself up to perch on the kimeti’s exposed underbelly with a quiet snort that said I would have eaten him. “I suppose you’re right- I should go back, keep an eye on him.” The caiman snorted again, expressing her confusion at her friend’s wrongness- that wasn't what I meant at all, hoofbeast!- and the doe looked up at her, nuzzling her sharp-toothed muzzle. “I can catch something for him and just leave it there, make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. I’m not going to bring him back here, it’s not like I care that some idiot’s gotten himself blinded and sickened on a pilgrimage to who-knows-where for who-knows-why, but he was pathetic. I’ve seen foals just out of the sac better-equipped to take care of themselves. It’s almost embarrassing.” The caiman swished her tail and rolled off of the kimeti, sensing that her friend was about to stand up. Sure enough, Half Truth rolled over and rose to her hooves, shaking the muck from her back. “You know, I shouldn’t say that. I mean, I’m going to tell him he was stupid, but for whatever reason, he really wanted to go back to the desert. That’s where they come from, right? He just… wanted to go home. Maybe see someone he loved. Maybe that’s worth getting hurt for.” She said it wistfully almost. “I… wish I had something like that. I’ve never felt that strongly about anything in my life. Except you guys, I mean,” she said at the caiman’s inquisitive stare. “Everything’s give and take, right- I give a little so that the world can’t take a lot. But… imagine the happiness that’s worth that pain. I’m almost… no. I am sorry he’s never going to see home again. Not gonna tell him that, though. He’s not gonna know I’ve gone all soft. No, I’ll just make sure nothing bad happens to him and make sure he gets something to eat. Then he goes on his way, soon as he’s able to walk more than a few feet. I'm not gonna nurse him back to health or anything, don't worry. Come on, Dog. Let’s get moving.”