Don't Gallop

Gaius swims out to his clogs, now floating metres apart.

He retrieves the first one. Then the second.

Excellent. 

Now to swim back.

Roo-kai lands on the water beside him.

Thanks for rescuing Terence, says Roo-kai. 

Thanks for informing me he needed to be rescued, says Gaius.

Sorry about your clogs, says Roo-kai.

Not at all, says Gaius. I left them too close to the water.

Shall I keep looking for the Nachoos? asks Roo-kai.

If you wouldn't mind, says Gaius.

So Roo-kai flies off to do that.

Gaius swims back to Terence, who is digging a hole with his toes.

Got them! says Gaius.

Now what? asks Terence.

We go back and finish packing, says Gaius.

What about the Nachoos? asks Terence.

Roo-kai is looking for them, says Gaius. But I don't hold much hope of success.

Where will they go? asks Terence.

Where the tides take them, says Gaius. 

Like Saint Roley's brother, says Terence.

I suppose so, says Gaius.

But he was on a piece of cardboard, says Terence.

I know, says Gaius. A sad tale. He was never seen again.

Dead or alive, says Terence.

Dead or alive, says Gaius. Of course that doesn't pertain to the Nachoos which are made of aluminium.

So that's not a sad tale, says Terence.

Sad in another way, says Gaius. They could have been recycled.

Saint Roley's brother's cardboard could have been recycled, says Terence.

It would have disintegrated, says Gaius.

Yikes! says Terence. Then Saint Roley's brother would have drowned.

Only if he hadn't the sense to start flying, says Gaius. 

Or if a horse came galloping by, says Terence.

Ha ha! laughs Gaius. As if a horse would come galloping by in the middle of the ocean.

What about a seahorse? says Terence.

Seahorses don't gallop, says Gaius. 

But at least Terence has managed to turn the conversation.

If only to seahorses, which don't gallop.