Cricket Creek Bog hippopotamus

aditya was about to comment on pharaoh's wise decision to stay out of the fray when the man asked after brook. his face fell, and he swallowed, looking away. she is still in the south, with family, he murmured. long accustomed to the yoke of guilt slung over his shoulders, he bore the weight as well as he could, still averting his gaze.

my restlessness does not suit anyone but myself, adi continued. she's better off without me. better to find her own way in the world, perhaps start a family of her own. 

all he wished for her was to be happy. she was a sad creature, and no doubt why. a mother long gone, and a father that slipped in and out of her life like the changing of seasons. and a past without him that he'd never quite been able to learn—and now he never would.

the water was a blessing against the heat, and when he began to crawl out of the pool, he found his coat covered in mud and slime that would, god willing, protect him against the nagging, nibbling insects in the swamp.