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Glick’s words slurred as his mind began to wander. He’d talked for hours, days maybe and it was time to rest. The Brush-Men chirped, asking more questions. “I’m done. I’m leaving now to be with my friends, but when you wake there will be a present for you. Meat to eat, right here in your home. Fill-up before you breath the air from the land. Get strong.” Not that there was much to him, he was small but they’d be a bit smaller. “And take care of the littler ones. Remember my story. I was the smallest and scared all the time, but in the end, I was brave and I helped save my huge friends.”
He closed his eyes, remembering Bumpers and Flea, laughing and joking–together always. Speckles with his wry sense of humor. Some of these soon-to-be hatchlings were like them and he’d saved them all from poison and pain and had given them the life they deserved–free in the forest with the sun and wind.