17
What Bucket?
Morning came along, as it tends to, and the sunshine bursting into the cave rudely forced Zeb, Flip and the Aleph from the warm embrace of sleep.
“I’m hungry,” Zeb said, mostly to himself. He reached into his bag in search of food and then remembered what Flip had told him the night before. He was about to gripe until he remembered ‘the wolf excuse’. This may have discouraged his mouth from grumbling, but his stomach was somewhat more persistent.
“Flip, we’d better get moving if we want to find Smokey today.”
“Mmm hmm,” she mumbled, shoving aside the hair that clung like a tangled mass of crimson seaweed to her face. “Zeb, our friend here doesn’t have a name, should we give him one?” The Aleph looked at her and turned his head to one side, but offered no further commen
