Frothless But Moth Free

It was THEIR moth! says the kid.

I wasn't to know that, says dad. Tell them I'm sorry.

Is it dead? asks the kid. What if we massage its belly?

The moth's body is smeared over the table. 

The kid runs back

Dad killed it. He's sorry.

Gaius looks over at dad.

Dad makes a sorry gesture.

Gaius stands up and goes across to dad's table.

No need to apologise, says Gaius. It wasn't strictly our moth.

Not strictly? says dad. 

Not strictly, says Gaius. That is to say, the moth was swallowed by our Eastern Mourning skink, who thought it was dead.

So why was it flying across to our table? asks dad.

It seems that the moth wasn't dead after all, says Gaius. These things happen.

Yes, says dad, but why wasn't it being digested?

A stroke of luck, says Gaius. It was pushed out by one of those pink things they put on top of the strawberry milkshakes.

How could that happen? asks dad.

The skink swallowed that too, says Gaius. 

And will it be a problem? asks dad.

Not in the long run, says Gaius. The pink thing consists principally of sugar. The only problem is that we're about to leave Yellingbo for Powelltown in the central highlands, and the skink will now have to come with us. 

I see, says dad. A very different habitat.

Exactly, says Gaius. And as the eastern mourning skink is endangered, a move to the highlands may not do him much good.

You could just leave him here, says dad.

No, I feel responsible, says Gaius. We allowed him to come with us. He'd never been to a store or a café.

How will you keep him warm in the highlands? asks dad. Skinks are cold blooded. 

I know that, says Gaius. We do have a blanket. Although at the moment it's damp.

Dad has had enough of enquiring into Gaius's problems.

His coffee is cooling, and there are bits of moth wing floating in it. And a thin leg.

Well, all the best, says dad. Enjoy Powelltown.

Thank you says Gaius. But we're not going there for enjoyment. We'll be looking for Leadbeater's possums.

Good luck with that, says dad. But don't they live pretty high up in the canopy?

We have a drone, says Gaius. And a fruit bat.

Dad could ask what is the use of the fruit bat, but he doesn't.

He scoops the thin moth leg from the froth on the top of his coffee. Then the wing bits.

After which, there is not much froth left.