[Jaykobell]

"Greyson," the red-ribbon Dalma called out weakly, tiredly. "Greyson. Greyson. Greyson..."

The Dalma ahead tuned out the calls. His paws ached, his fur was dirty, his tongue was parched, his stomach was starving. Even his ribbon, a mere piece of superfluous fabric, was in bad shape. Everything in his body hurt, from nose to the tips of his two tails that dragged along the road.

"Greyson," the whine came again.

And unable to tune out that high-pitched, pitiful voice forever, Greyson abruptly stopped so he could turn around. "What, Bug?" he snarled with a glare. "What is it?!"

[Jaykobell]

Bug stopped just as abruptly, and he pressed his belly against the ground. His ears flat against his head, he stared, dumbfounded, at Greyson. "Greyson," he repeated after a moment.

Exasperated, Greyson barked, and he swiped a paw at the air. "Shut up!" he yowled, taking a step forward. "Can't you say anything else?!"

Bug recoiled at the fake blow, whimpering from the fear. "I-I..." he mumbled, and he looked down at the ground, afraid to maintain eye contact with his traveling companion.

[Jaykobell]

Greyson's blood boiled. Everything hurt. What did Bug want? His patience had started to run thin at the exit of Whisper Forest, but it had been completely extinguished by the time they had crossed through the human town. They just needed to go on a little bit further. Just a little bit more. Just a little...

It was dead silence between them as Bug struggled to speak, and as Greyson zoned out from the exhaustion.

Finally, after a bit, Bug whined, "I want to go home, Greyson."

[Jaykobell]

More silence.

Greyson looked over Bug. More so than him, Bug looked in horrible shape. Greyson had a goal that he pursued, he had a reason to keep on going with this journey. And with their paws so close to touching the edge of the Vast Plains, his determination burned bright despite the pains and the aches.

But Bug didn't have any of that. Bug didn't have any sort of goal in sight, no reason to keep on going. The only reason why Bug had come along on this trip was because he had been concerned about Greyson's safety.

And it was clear that reason wasn't enough to keep on going anymore.

[Jaykobell]

Greyson stared; Bug cowered.

After a moment, Greyson looked down. "We're almost home, Bug," he said gently. He immediately felt regret for snapping at his friend. "We're so close," he pointed out, and he looked over his shoulder. Trenches, sprinkles of trees, vast, open grounds: the Vast Plains were so close.

They were so close.

Bug sniffed, his eyes looking up hesitantly. Greyson's shift in tone had put him a little bit more at ease. "That's not home, Greyson," he said quietly. "It's a..."

He didn't have the heart to finish.

[Jaykobell]

But Bug didn't have to finish his sentence. Greyson knew exactly what he had been about to say. "It's not a legend, Bug," he insisted. They had argued about the reality of what Greyson was looking for here.

They said that wild Dalmas lived on the Vast Plains, calling them their home, their land. Greyson believed in the existence of those Dalmas with all his heart. Stuck in a human show business as a prized Dalma breed, he had heard of Dalmas before him breaking away from that life to run away, and to live here, free of humans.

[Jaykobell]

Bug stood at the other end of the spectrum. Although he had doubts, he did mostly believe that it was a fairy tale: just a story, a rumor, a legend, that fellow show Dalma spread in an effort to think of better things. To think of a better life, to let their imagination drift while they endured the life of a show Dalma.

And throughout this journey, they had debated, silently, over their respective stance on the legend. Greyson had pushed on; Bug had burned out, slowly.

[Jaykobell]

Unable to stand anymore, Bug sat down. He kept his eyes on the ground. "You really believe in them, huh?" he voiced quietly, mostly to himself; but with ears like theirs, it had been foolish to think Greyson wouldn't hear.

And Greyson did feel bad for Bug. He had told his friend to stay home. He had told him from the beginning that things would be fine. But Bug had insisted that he wanted to tag along. He had insisted that he couldn't just let Greyson leave and travel all on his own.

[Jaykobell]

Seeing Bug sitting down, his fur a mess, his ribbon ripped in places, his eyes so drained of energy; Greyson felt bad. Even though Bug had insisted on coming, Greyson had caused this. If he hadn't insisted on going to find those Dalmas, Bug wouldn't be in this condition.

Greyson turned around. "Bug," he said as he raised his head, his eyes staring at the prize ahead, "go back to town," he instructed. "And..." His voice trailed away quietly as he thought of the best words to say. "And if I find them, if they're real..."

He paused for a second. "I'll come get you."

[Jaykobell]

Bug snapped his head up to stare at Greyson, the other Dalma's back now facing him. "Huh?" he blurted out with genuine surprise.

"We're so close. You don't have to worry about me," Greyson explained, taking a few steps ahead. "So go back to town, and when I make sure those Dalmas exist, I'll come get you." He looked over his shoulder. "I promise."

The two exchanged a silent look. Bug had persisted this long: the most Greyson could do for him was to let Bug go back to town and rest comfortably.

[Jaykobell]

Greyson gave Bug a minute to answer and to consider the offer. When the other Dalma didn't move, he assumed the matter was settled, and he started walking again. One paw after the other, he moved onward again.

"Greyson!" Bug called out from behind him, and Greyson stopped again.

When he looked over his shoulder, he was surprised to see Bug making his way to stand next to him, a sort of renewed determination in his tired eyes. "What are you doing?" Greyson asked, blinking.

[Jaykobell]

"Go back to town," Greyson insisted. "I promise I won't leave you there for long." Was it that Bug thought Greyson might be lying? Or that Greyson was trying to get rid of him?

The meek Dalma just shook his head. "I'm not going back," Bug insisted as well, with a smile. "I'm sticking with you."

Greyson tilted his head. "But you just said you wanted to go home," he pointed out.

Bug looked away sheepishly. "Well, yeah," he agreed, "but I made it this far. And it wouldn't feel right to go back alone, without you."

[Jaykobell]

Greyson stared as Bug spoke. He felt that familiar companionship with his traveling friend: that spark in his heart that had carried the two of them this far, this long. He shook his head, an embarrassed, but appreciative smile on his face. "You're so stupid," he said for a reply, and he swiped playfully at the other Dalma's shoulder.

Bug grinned, accepting the fake hit, and his twin tails wagged under the heat. "So are you!" he retorted, and he slammed against Greyson, returning the play. "You'll drop into a trench if I don't go with you."

[Jaykobell]

Greyson snorted at the comment. "You're afraid of your own shadow!" He shoved Bug back, and he shook his fur. "I bet you couldn't even make your way back to town without me."

The two Dalmas got walking again, this time on a more enthusiastic step than before. "Could too!" Bug retorted. "My nose is just as good as yours!"

"Oh yeah?" Greyson replied, and he lifted his nose. "Well, I hope we find those Dalmas soon, because you stink!" he pointed out. "If we don't find them it'll be your fault!"

[Jaykobell]

With renewed determination, the two Dalmas kept moving onward. Despite the heat, they continued on through the dirt paths and the sparse patches of trees, up until their paws had reached their destination at last.

With their destination in sight, they pressed on. Greyson especially could feel his heart beating in his chest, his breathing quickening, his limbs shaking — all from anticipation. The heat and the aches mattered little: there had to be something here! Those Dalmas had to be here!

But Bug, on the other hand, wasn't doing so well.