*There's a concentrated awake-ness to it, a complex extra dimension of weight and berth, a vomiting forward of all his energy and vigor and livelihood into a single, distinctly misshapen creature. It charts soft, bouncing circles around Regulus, curling to the fit of his back and giving a great, invasive sniff into his ear canal. Barty leans in too, but instead of a snuffling he offers leverage, taking Reg's hand.*

I'll accept that. Your wells I mean. There aren't enough wells anymore, even though there's so much water - and I don't mean the stony-hole-into-the-earth sort. I'll probably give it back though. You need all the well you can get.