Dante nodded slowly in response to Belita’s reply. He watched her carefully with his one good eye, the other milky one gazing uselessly into the distance. He enjoyed the soft whisper of her lips across his flesh and through his thin, russet pelt.

It was not often that he received physical contact of any kind, what with his quiet, generally reserved nature and recent hermit-like habits. So when he did finally get to spend some time with his herd mates, few and far between as they unfortunately were, he treasured it dearly. It was pleasant and comforting, even when it was of the most innocent variety.

At Belita’s final words, Dante smiled, his velvety lips contorting happily into a mask of pleasure. She was most correct. It was not difficult to forget that the Paradise was sadly and forlornly empty when enthralled in conversation with just one other person.

He liked to hope that changing that emptiness physically could be as easy once he finally made the effort and dragged himself out of his sandy hiding place.

“Yes,” he said quietly, moving to groom her mane gently in the dimming sunlight. “I suppose we are.”

And with that they faded into a companionable, comfortable silence.

DANTE
a man possessed of some radical notions