Fine Cracks In His Head

No point feeling bad about Waca, says Roo-kai.

But I forgot him, says Terence. And you said he was sad.

I said he was resigned to his fate, says Roo-kai. 

What IS his fate? asks Terence.

You tell me, says Roo-kai.

Terence thinks about the fate that awaits Waca.

The tide will come in. 

He'll get washed away, says Terence.

He's in very soft sand, says Roo-kai. Far from the water.

So why doesn't he dig himself out? asks Terence.

He can't, says Roo-kai. Remember what he's made of?

Wood, says Terence. 

He'll soon become weathered, says Roo-kai. His paint will fade and his surface will lose its lustre. Fine cracks will appear in his head.

Wah! cries Terence.

Shall I take him a message? asks Roo-kai.

Yes, says Terence. Take him a message.

Roo-kai waits for Terence to come up with a message.

Terence continues building his dinghy. 

That dinghy's not going anywhere, says Roo-kai.

It's pretend. says Terence.

So, what's the message? asks Roo-kai.

Is it my message? asks Terence. I thought it was yours.

No it's your message, says Roo-kai. What should I tell Waca?

Tell him I'm building a dinghy, says Terence.

He'll like that, says Roo-kai. But he might get the wrong idea.

What idea? asks Terence.

That you're coming to the rescue, says Roo-kai.

That's a good idea, says Terence. Tell him I'm coming to the rescue.

But you're not, says Roo-kai.

Don't tell him that part, says Terence.

Roo-kai nods and flies off. 

He might have to work on that message.