Coconut Grove the day is done, but i'm having fun

the more time he spent here, the more he liked it. it reminded him so much of the south that he wondered what would happen, when winter came to the wilds. would the trees die, only to bloom again in the spring? or would the snow not even touch this grove and all could carry on as usual? he was so intrigued by the possibilities that he continued to linger around.

but in all his time here, he hadn't seen many others. today was out of the ordinary as he caught sight of a dark form nearby; it was that lanky boy from the charred forest, the one accompanying the girl. he was gnawing industriously on one of the coconuts, clasped hard in his teeth.

with a whoof that served as both an alert and a greeting, govinda padded over to the other, the sand shifting beneath his paws. trying to get to the milk inside? he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. you have to crack it open; it's hard to do with teeth. i've never gotten lucky enough to break one myself.

occasionally, they fell hard enough from their trees to burst open. this was an anomaly. more often, it took skilled labor, a tedious job of smacking it over and over into a rock. given that wolves had no opposable thumbs, it made the task even more difficult.