So, this? This is new. Funny how the bone horses feel perfectly normal to him, but the talking purple cat throws him for a loop.

John considers this a moment, blinking down at the cat. There's something itching in his mind, some old joke about strange worlds and stranger guides— are you here to tell me I've gone mad— but it's beyond his reach. He breaks into a startled smile anyway, taking in the eye-searing neon against sand.

"I'm sure that's not true," he says, regaining his footing as he goes, "maybe we just need to get to know them better. But I guess they might not be great conversationalists, without lungs."