It might be Raleigh or Marco making this leap of deduction. There’s no way to tell if they’re not looking at you, and there’s light reflecting off of Marco’s one or Raleigh’s two eyes. Even then, Raleigh might be winking, and you’d think it was Marco.
Then again, Raleigh might just be saying dumb things with one eye closed so that Hubris thinks Marco is stupid.
Mud. Muddy muddy mud.
Mud goes all the way down, you know. Between the rocks, and in the sand, and past the clay. Mud.
I’ve been on hikes like that. I’d like to think I’d be as calm as Hubris is about it.
The weather is making Hubris’ retirement kinda difficult, isn’t it?
So here he is, squatting in the stormy woods, under a downed tree, with a couple of raccoons that have very cultured opinions about what they expect to find when they reach civilization. It can only get better from here, right?
Right.
You know… It’s totally an indicator as to how bad things have gotten when you agree to stuff that would have sounded insane if you had been, say, sitting in your own place all dry and warm and fed and not being stormed upon.
Things have gotten REALLY bad when you start gauging the acceptability of a plan that includes hunkering down under a dead tree and waiting for the end of… the end of… well… anything, really.
Was Hubris ever made aware, so long ago, that Wilma Wiggins-Ross conjured a little rain when it was needed at the Outdoorfest? She drew a turtle and said a word of Cherokee and Bam! Were Marco and Raleigh aware?
Now, with Marco and Raleigh apparently convinced that there’s something Hubris can do to chance the circumstances of the rain, they’re apparently believers in weather witchery.
Animals are so superstitious.
Silly.
Everybody seems to be on the same wavelength.
That’s so sweet.
Did someone point out that Hubris was supposed to be sharp enough to have brought a tent?
Yes, I think you did.
And yes, you’re right.
He brought it.
Too late now, of course.
Hubris is doing what we all wish we could do, right?
You get a few dollars in the ol’ bank account and then you go live it up doing exactly what you’ve been hoping to do for years and years.
Yessir. Happiness is retirement.
Bob. Good ol’ Bob.
People that in touch with the Universe should be respected and appreciated for the simple, connected souls they are.
Instead of being resented for being right and lucky all the time, the darn ol’ bunch of poops.
Hubris talks to his fur buddies the same way I figure the average person talks to cousins. You like ’em okay, and you don’t get to spend as much time with them as you probably should… but still, you have to be cagey in what you say.
Hubris couldn’t say, “Seriously? You got a tattoo of McDonald’s logo. Yikes, guy. Have you regretted that yet?” That’d be rude. You gotta hang with the cousins for a while before you can just blurt out things like that.
At least, that’s how people used to do it.
Not.
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