Poot stood in the middle of the deserted road, undecided between whether to wait more or to go after the chomp. He had watched as the brave chomp had lead the group of pies away into the grasslands. He was gutsy, yes, but also very foolish. What had he hoped to achieve with this idea of his? How was he going to get the pies he needed for that all-anhilliating blast?

This was absurd. He had to go after him and save his jiggles. But just as Poot had made up his mind to follow the chomp, he saw a white blob in the hazy afternoon distance. The blob resolved into a fluffy patoot galloping towards him at full speed.

"Floof!" He yelled in elation.

The patoot halted a few feet away from him. When he tried to close the distance, she meowed in alarm. Poot chuckled understandingly, and extracted what appeared to be a waffle cone from his pockets. He raised the cone in Floof's direction, then mimed putting it on his nose. The patoot seemed to understand, and came closer, albeit very reluctantly.

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The smelly chomp placed the cone over Floof's nostrils with the slick deftness of a magician, and surprisingly, it remained stuck in place there. He beamed proudly.

"The rim of the cone is lined with toffee sauce to give it stickiness. My own secret recipe. Not that you could tell anyone anyway."

He examined her parcel of delicious pies and chomped on them thoughtfully. If the chomp wasn't with her, he was surely out there, fending for himself against the rabid pies.

It wasn't honor or a sense of morality that made him decide to go and save the chomp, it was more the idea that for the first time ever, he had a friend.