Fleegle blasts out of the bamboo, a biscuit sticking out of his mouth, and jets across the lawn and into the bamboo on the other side of the yard. Moments later, Franny runs awkwardly from the first bamboo, across the lawn after him and into the second bamboo, growling the whole way.
Then Fleegle blasts from the second bamboo, across the lawn, and dives into the first bamboo. A moment later Franny stumbles out of the second bamboo, makes it about halfway across the lawn and plops down panting.
She looks all around her, then her gaze lands on me. “Where’d the fat head with biscuit breath go?”
“Don’t tell her, Raud,” Fleegle calls out from his hiding place in the bamboo.
Franny sniffs the air, then gets up and scent tracks Fleegle to his spot. He emerges from the bamboo, crunching on the last of the biscuit he was carrying.
Franny looks at the crumbs stuck to his face. “Now if you had shared your biscuit, I wouldn’t have been able to find you by your scent because I would’ve smelled like biscuit too.”
“If I had shared my biscuit, you wouldn’t have been chasing me at all.”