*kssssht*
*"ssshmsssh...confound these flippers, oh!"*
"This is the personal log of Dr S. Crawver, I've finally managed to make this vocal recording device function. Our last known location was...I don't know whether it was named, there were no signs; an enormous ship grounded in an estuary, on the periphery of a city district. I have given up any attempt to track time or place, although I once read that time can be discerned from the phases of the moon, but I do not remember how. Pah...I'm being ridiculous, there is no purpose to it."
"Events have been...turbulent. Following the encounter with that dreadful golem and the luminous man, we undertook a grueling march north to the city; for the four of us had been exposed to dangerous levels of radiation, and we had exhausted my supply of medicine, somehow. It seems I had been in shock, perhaps Abraham...confound it. I had done my best to purge any infection on the reporter's skin with broc flower and xander root extract that we managed to forage, but hunger and thirst sagged as if chained around our necks. We had left no food, and little water, clean or otherwise; we tried to ration it equally between us, but...Brahmin are thirsty beasts, especially my Udders...we, I, had to..."
"Time wore on like encroaching rust; my blubber allowed me graciously to at least stay awake, if not alert, while poor Udders struggled beneath me, but I could feel her suffering when I lay a flipper across her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. Guilt ate at my stomach more than any hunger could. The two men grew emaciated by the day, the reporter hardly woke, and pitched gently with the sway of Udders' shoulders, he didn't have the energy to cry out in pain or hunger or desperation, and in my questionable state I thanked some higher power for his silence. Abraham ranged ahead, hobbling madly, babbling excitedly at first but less in increments by day; madness cannot sustain indeterminitely, it seems. I try to keep it to the back of my memory, but I swear I saw that harsh sun pierce his weathered skin and shine behind him. We halted where we could so as to allow Udders to graze on whatever there was. But I don't like her eating that stuff...But we had to. We had to."
"By the time the ship was in sight, we had not the energy to be jubilant; I doubted then that we'd survive to make it inside. Now people stood between us and the grave. Perhaps due to that, in desperation I thought for a second to relinquish my life, and allow hunger, thirst, dread and fatigue to consume me, and throw my carcass to the quiet earth. They didn't want to let us in. They levelled their weapons, and carved Udders to and fro with their eyes. Malicious, despicable men, I would no sooner see them away by any means than breathe. This is my Brahmin. MY Udders. Abraham tore at our packs and panniers with what little strength he had and spilled what we had left in front of the guardsmen. Bottle caps, and my pistol. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head, whether he was begging or had not the will to stay upright was indistinct; it didn't matter, we would have a doctor, and food. But we would not stay."
"We still were disallowed entry; their doctor, closely followed by a group of swarthy men, traders, couriers and whatever else, came out to bring us our medicine. I could see the way those men's eyes fell heavily upon Udders, but I had not the energy to seethe. I am sure that their eyes fell upon me in equal measure. Sometimes, I do ruminate on what it was that spared me from the butcher's knife; and placed me under the surgeon's knife in place of some poor creature."
"The young reporter...he didn't make it. Not enough Rad-Away to go around, their doctor said; too far gone, he said. He was the last to receive a dose. We had to have enough for Udders, I insisted."
*silence*
"He helped us to eat, and treated our sunburned skin. He was a kindly man, but I regret that I do not remember his face; I suspect he undercut his own prices to treat us, to use his entire stock of medicine. I do not understand how it was that we elicited such sympathy...but then was not the time to question it. They took his body inside. When the sun began to set, I saw two silhouetted figures push something off of the deck and into the water. No room for a proper burial."
"Was I right to...? No, I had to. I simply...had to..."
"Whatcha got there, fishy?"
"oh, n- nothing"
*click*