Both smelled dead; both were decidedly "well hung." Even the crows circled over Neewa, wondering why it was that he walked about like a living thing.
That night Miki slept alone under a clump of bush in the creek bottom.
He was hungry and lonely, and for the first time in many days he felt the bigness and emptiness of the world.

He wanted Neewa.

He whined for him in the starry silence of the long hours between sunset and dawn.
The sun was well up before Neewa came down the hill.

He had finished his breakfast and his morning roll, and he was worse than ever.

Again Miki tried to coax him away but Neewa was disgustingly fixed in his determination to remain in his present glory.