Khloros peered at Louie, listening to every word he said, quite carefully. A proposition? He was more concerned with the fox's eye than any proposition, but so be it. He began following after the fox, concern evident on even his diseased equine face.

"...Won't you get bigger?" he asked quitely. He was still new to the whole "growing" thing, and in his mind, things started small, and got big. Surely one day tiny Booker would be the size of Raheerah? ...Booker...

The foal paused, glancing back with sad gaze.

Please be alive.

He wasn't sure how he knew what "death" was, but he knew that it was an end--and a permanent one. He was glad that their savior hadn't fallen to it--but for Booker, he could only hope and pray.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD