Morningside Cuesta Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens..

It took a couple of tries but he managed a deep breath, and as he exhaled he deflated around it. He drooped like a wilting flower and when his head was lowered close to one foreleg, shifted enough to rub his eyes and blot his nose, knowing it was futile to try and stop the seasonal effects currently in play. Mink managed to clear one eye enough to get a proper look at the stranger — he looked thin, like, unhealthily so, but Mink wasn't the type to comment on stuff like that. He was probably a freshly dispersed kid.

As he raised his head, the boy commented further and Mink snorted a fresh breath in through his nose, which sounded blocked at this point. Great. I'mb nod sing, he poorly assured, Ids --- srrrrf --- ids dah polleng. 

He felt a fresh sneeze coming and was mindful enough in that moment to at least turn his head away. The motion twinged something in his neck though, so Mink more-or-less gagged on his own spit as a byproduct and rather than an explosive sneeze, he belched a cough. When that was over, he tried to rub his eyes against his nearest limb again. Nodding I cab do aboud id -- sorree.

Ugh, but it was the absolute pits. The sense of defeat finally overtook the vestiges of Mink's good cheer, and as he struggled for another breath his chest sagged, eyes drooped, and he became Eeyore's canine equivalent in full. His voice was already strained by the burn in his throat but now there was a dull quality to his tone; he took to enunciating deliberately to get his question out: You wudden happan da no, ahh, a fish? No, that wasn't the right word, um. Figgs. No, but almost there, come on buddy -- Sumding dad migh helb?

A fix. Damn phlegm messing with his phonemes.