The Ant Eater started eating whole colonies at once.
It was worrying.
The Walrus of course was hardly the person to comment on someone’s recent weight gain so he kept it to himself.
The Alligator wanted to eat him. Because he just kept getting so big, so fat and juicy on those squishy ant colonies.
That’s a strange thing, to want to eat your friend.
I mean, the Ant Eater once saved her life, when she’d been trapped under that fallen Elephant, the Ant Eater had reached her snout in and managed, actually managed, to pull her out with it.
That’s impressive snouting.
And now she looks like dinner.
The Walrus had always been large, and frankly, the Walrus had always kind of looked like dinner to the Alligator, but a Walrus is a formidable foe. And the Walrus wasn’t just any Walrus. He was kind of a berserker.
He’d lost an ear in a fight with a Sea Lion. Don’t even look at the back of the left side of his head. It looks like someone sewed new skin on there, its so torn up.
But he’d won that fight. That Sea Lion is dead now.
Don’t fuck with the Walrus.
The Walrus decided to buckle down and say something.
They were, of course, hanging out by another ant colony.
Where the Ant Eater had dragged them, because he couldn’t even go two hours without eating Ants.
Not like the Walrus and the Alligator are aquatic animals, and they didn’t go out of their way to go up on dry land just to hang out with their friend or anything. I mean, hey, if I’m coming to hang out with you, I don’t want to just watch you eat ants all the time. You’re killing yourself.
You’re killing yourself, that’s what he said.
That’s what he found himself saying.
And the Ant Eater looked bad: bloated, pale, just rolled out in the dirt covered in Ants. Ants, Ants, Ants, that’s all he ever talked about.
It was sad.
PART ONE OF UNTIL ITS DONE!