TRANSCRIPT

Ipola is flying on the back of Hraarch, and seems a bit lost in thought

HRRAARCH: <Ipola? … Ipola!>

IPOLA: <What – yes?>

HRRAARCH: <I said, when will you need to land to make water?>

IPOLA: <Oh – I … I’m fine for some time.  Sorry, I was …>

HRRAARCH: <Just dreaming about your mate?>

IPOLA: <Oh well – he’s not exactly my mate. With humans, sometimes …>

HRRAARCH: <Never mind trying to explain it to me again.  I will probably never truly understand. >

IPOLA: <I know – you don’t even have a word for it. >

HRRAARCH: <Your people seem to complicate things horribly, Ipola. But if you are happy with it, who am I to judge?>

IPOLA: <If only it worked that well … so often we’re not really happy with it at all.>

HRRAARCH: <Then what’s the point?>

IPOLA: <We’ve been trying to figure that out ourselves for a very long time.>