Day Two-Seventy-Three: Happy Trails

People in wetness is SO. NICE. Diary happy, be part of this big menagerie thinger.

Life. Funny. So helps, are these people. They nice, helps me get back to Drags. Then I clomp self on Drags' nose. Is for leave me behind with Libbers. Then I clomps Libbers' nose for leaves behind with crawly.

No clomps crawly. Might squishes his face. Is nice, that crawly! Decent peoples.

Wetness? SUPER WET. I, diary, never thought. Would never no knows. I mean, Drags, he walk through here. But IIIIIIII noooooo geeeeeeeet weeeeeet. Drags, he takes care of diary. Shoves in big bag. On own? No care. No care t'all.

Sigh. Sad diary is sad.

But care! I lies. Many, many people cares. All polite! All help. All so nice, and generosites, and helps diary, which is I, who is GREAT, get through wetness. Is slow, is bore, but is happen. We, says I, makes it happen.

EXAMPLE! Big wriggler. Not wriggler with little wiggly thingers 'n wings 'n scuttly legs 'n screechy voices, but line. Line thinger. I sees them in moatwaterwet, 'n they say nothing. Just glow, green eyes, all scaries. No help.

Here? Nice! Friendsly! So polite. Happy times. I say, "Diary! You ask thems to take me places!"

And they say "Hello, little rat. Are you retarded? It appears so. Just look at that warped cranium. Where are you headed? The ruins? Yes, you must be going to the ruins. I can't take you the whole stretch, as I'm about to give birth, but I can scoot you some of the way. And I have friends! Don't worry, we'll get you where you need to go."

And they do! So, so much, they do. I is carry in scaly palm, and teeth mouth, and big old talon things, and on back of swimmer. Gets little wet in last, but not bad! Smelly now, being the wet, but Drags will clean. Diary? He and she and we will live. Experiences are good, says they alls.

These swamp peoplies, they chat with diary. They tell I many things, how their grampies and grand grampies and grand grand grampies and grand grand grand grampies and grand grand grand grand grampies and grand grand grand grand grand grand grand grand GRAND grand grand grand grand grand grand grampies is all friends of ratties. They say, so many grampies, they like rats. So they likes diary. So they helps diary.

Ruins, they says. Look for ratty ghosts. And diary is all, "Phil? He is no ratty. He is man. Don't you ratty Phil, diary."

Still go. Ruins, says they, still ways aways away. Soon. Tonight? Diary is sleep with furries with furriers tails. Squash diary in, and he, who is I, is all saying "Sweet."

So warm.

But, holies of the luck, theys tails are so smell. Like BUTT.

Sinceres,

Diary