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The canine watches the girl with a faint flick of its tail. It seems almost hesitant before approaching the teen and speaking in a raspy human voice, strands of greasy hair spilling between its teeth.


'Don't let the dreadfully mundane destroy your delight for the strange.'


The... dog? Reaches up with a paw, pats Pala on the head then flounces off, seeming satisfied with itself.


The scent of decay lingers.

Pala blinks. She should have been quite bewildered at being petted on the head by that doglike creature—wait now, it should be the other way around? Shouldn't I be the one petting the dog?—but now she is too busy pondering their advice to remember to be surprised.

"Thank you!" She calls after them. But they have long vanished.