The morning light cast long shadows over Red Rock as Sarah packed her belongings into a small satchel. The air was heavy with anticipation. Koa stood nearby, watching her work with a quiet intensity. His arms were crossed, and his brow furrowed in thought.
“You don’t have to go alone,” he said finally.
Sarah glanced up, her expression steady but resolute. “I’ll have a better chance if I do. A group of kangaroos showing up at a human settlement? They’d never listen to me.”
“You’re walking into a place that could kill you,” Nyra said from the entrance of the shelter, her spear leaning against her shoulder. “You sure about this?”
“I’m sure,” Sarah said, slinging the satchel over her shoulder. “This is the only way. If I can get them to trust me, it could be the start of something bigger—something that might actually stop this war.”
Koa stepped closer, his voice low. “And if they don’t trust you?”
Sarah smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Then I’ll talk until they do.”
The journey to the settlement was long and grueling, the sun bearing down mercilessly on the barren landscape. Sarah kept her pace steady, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. She had chosen the route carefully, avoiding the main roads where raiders or militia patrols might be lurking.
By the time she reached the outskirts of the settlement, the sun was dipping low in the sky, casting the land in hues of red and gold. A makeshift fence of barbed wire and scavenged metal surrounded the community, and the silhouettes of armed guards stood at the gate.
Sarah raised her hands as she approached, showing she was unarmed.
“Don’t shoot!” she called out.
The guards stiffened, their weapons aimed at her. “Who are you?” one of them demanded, his voice sharp with suspicion.
“My name’s Sarah,” she said, keeping her tone calm and measured. “I’m here to talk. That’s all.”
“What kind of talk?” another guard asked, stepping forward. His rifle glinted in the fading light, but his grip on it wasn’t as steady as he probably wanted to appear.
“About survival,” Sarah said. “About ending this war before it wipes us all out.”
The guards exchanged wary glances.
“Wait here,” the first one said, motioning for her to stay put. He disappeared behind the gate, leaving Sarah standing under the watchful eyes of the remaining guards.
The settlement’s leader was a wiry woman with sharp eyes and a stern expression. She introduced herself as Lorna, gesturing for Sarah to sit at a table in what appeared to be the community’s meeting hall—a converted barn with walls reinforced by corrugated metal and thick beams.
“So,” Lorna said, folding her arms as she leaned against the table. “You came all this way to talk about peace. Why should I believe a word you’re saying?”
Sarah met her gaze without flinching. “Because I’ve seen what happens when we don’t. I’ve been to the camps. I’ve watched families torn apart, kids starving because of this war. And I’ve seen what’s coming if we keep going down this path.”
Lorna raised an eyebrow. “And what’s coming?”
“Rook,” Sarah said simply. “His army’s not just kangaroos anymore. He’s got hybrids—machines twisted with flesh. They’ll tear through anything in their way, and they don’t care if you’re human or not.”
The room fell silent. A few of the other settlement leaders shifted uneasily, exchanging glances.
“I’ve heard those stories,” Lorna said finally. “Hard to separate truth from fear these days.”
“It’s the truth,” Sarah insisted. “And if you’ve got any doubts, come see for yourself. But I’m not here to scare you. I’m here because I believe we can fight back—together.”
“Together,” Lorna repeated, her tone skeptical. “You mean with them.”
Sarah nodded. “Yes. With Koa’s faction.”
The tension in the room spiked immediately.
“You’re asking us to work with them?” one of the leaders asked, his voice incredulous. “After everything they’ve done?”
“Not all of them,” Sarah said firmly. “Koa’s not like Rook. He wants this war to end as much as you do. He’s been fighting to protect his people, not to destroy yours.”
“And how do we know he’s not just using you to get to us?” Lorna asked.
“Because he’s risking everything by trusting me,” Sarah said. “And because he knows this war is killing us all. You’ve lost people. So has he. It’s time to stop seeing each other as enemies and start seeing the real threat.”
Lorna stared at her for a long moment, her sharp eyes searching Sarah’s face for any sign of deceit. Finally, she straightened, glancing at the others.
“If we listen to her,” one of the leaders said, his tone wary, “we’re putting our whole community at risk. What if it’s a trap?”
“And if we don’t listen,” another countered, “we might be throwing away our last chance.”
Lorna held up a hand, silencing the debate. She turned back to Sarah, her expression unreadable.
“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” Lorna said. “But guts don’t mean much if you’re wrong.”
“I’m not wrong,” Sarah said quietly.
Lorna sighed, running a hand through her hair. “We’ll hear him out,” she said finally. “But if there’s even a hint of trouble—”
“There won’t be,” Sarah said.
Lorna nodded, her expression hardening. “Then bring him here. But don’t make me regret this.”
The journey back to Red Rock was tense. Sarah’s mind replayed her conversation with Lorna, dissecting every word and every glance exchanged in the dimly lit meeting hall. The settlement leader had agreed to meet with Koa, but her reluctance had been clear. The slightest misstep could cost them the fragile hope of an alliance.
When Sarah reached the camp, the air was heavy with expectation. Koa stood near the stream, his posture stiff, his arms crossed as he watched her approach. Nyra and Tek weren’t far off, both of them waiting with expressions that ranged from curiosity to skepticism.
“Well?” Koa asked as Sarah drew closer.
“They’ll meet with you,” Sarah said, setting her satchel down. “But it wasn’t easy. They’re scared, and they don’t trust anyone—least of all kangaroos.”
Nyra’s ears twitched, her brow furrowing. “Sounds promising,” she said dryly.
“It’s a start,” Sarah shot back. “And it’s more than we had yesterday.”
Koa nodded, his expression thoughtful. “What’s the plan?”
“They want you to come to their settlement,” Sarah said. “Talk to Lorna—their leader. Convince her that you’re not a threat.”
“That’s it?” Tek asked, folding his arms. “No big catch?”
“There’s always a catch,” Nyra muttered.
“They’ll be armed,” Sarah admitted. “And they’re nervous. One wrong move, and they’ll turn on you.”
Koa met her gaze, his expression resolute. “I’m not going to give them a reason to.”
The next morning, Koa, Nyra, and Sarah set out for the settlement. Tek had volunteered to come, but Koa insisted he stay behind to help defend the camp. The group traveled light, their pace steady but cautious as they navigated the rugged terrain.
As they approached the settlement, Sarah could feel the tension building. Nyra’s grip on her spear tightened, her eyes scanning the cliffs for any sign of trouble.
“They’ll be watching us,” Nyra said.
“They already are,” Koa replied, his ears swiveling toward a faint rustle in the distance.
Sarah raised her hands as they neared the settlement’s gates, signaling to the guards. “It’s me!” she called out. “I’m back, and I brought him.”
The gates creaked open slowly, revealing the same wary guards who had confronted her before. Their weapons were raised, their eyes darting nervously between Koa and Nyra.
“Easy,” Sarah said, her tone calm. “We’re here to talk, remember?”
One of the guards nodded stiffly and gestured for them to follow.
The meeting took place in the same barn-like structure where Sarah had first spoken to Lorna. The room felt smaller with Koa’s towering presence, and the tension was palpable as Lorna and the other leaders filed in.
Lorna’s gaze fixed on Koa immediately, her expression unreadable. “You must be Koa,” she said.
Koa inclined his head. “I am. And you must be Lorna.”
“Straight to the point, then,” Lorna said, leaning against the table. “Why are you here?”
“To stop this war,” Koa said simply.
Lorna raised an eyebrow. “That’s a big claim for someone on the losing side.”
Koa didn’t flinch. “No one’s winning this war. Not you, not us. Not while Rook and Ethan are tearing everything apart.”
Lorna studied him for a moment, then glanced at Nyra. “And her? She’s your second?”
Nyra’s ears flicked back, her posture defensive. “I’m here to make sure he doesn’t get shot,” she said bluntly.
Lorna smirked faintly before returning her attention to Koa. “You talk about stopping the war. What does that even look like?”
“It starts with trust,” Koa said. “Trust that we’re not all like Rook. Trust that we want peace as much as you do.”
“And what makes you different?” one of the other leaders asked, his tone sharp. “You’re still kangaroos. You still attack our settlements.”
“We’re not the ones attacking you,” Nyra said sharply. “That’s Rook. And if you can’t tell the difference, then you’re as blind as he wants you to be.”
“Nyra,” Koa said, his tone low but firm.
She huffed but fell silent.
Koa turned back to Lorna. “We’ve lost people too,” he said. “Homes, families. Everything we had before the war started. I’m not here to fight you. I’m here because I want it to end.”
Lorna’s expression softened slightly, though her skepticism remained. “And what do you want from us?”
“An alliance,” Koa said. “We fight together. Share resources. Protect each other. It’s the only way any of us make it through this.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.
“You’re asking us to risk everything,” one of the leaders said finally.
“I’m asking you to survive,” Koa replied.
The discussion stretched late into the evening, the air heavy with debate and cautious optimism. Lorna asked hard questions, and Koa answered them with unflinching honesty. Nyra remained tense, her sharp gaze fixed on anyone who looked like they might reach for a weapon.
By the time they reached an agreement, exhaustion was etched on every face in the room.
“We’ll give this a chance,” Lorna said, her tone wary. “But it’s a trial, not a promise. One step out of line, and it’s over.”
“Understood,” Koa said.
Lorna leaned forward, her gaze intense. “You break this trust, Koa, and it’s not just your people who’ll suffer. It’s all of us.”
“I won’t break it,” Koa said firmly.
Lorna studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Then we’ll see where this goes.”
The sun had just begun to rise over Red Rock when the camp stirred with uneasy energy. Koa and Nyra returned with Sarah early that morning, the trial alliance with Lorna and her settlement weighing heavy on their minds.
The news spread quickly: there was a fragile truce, a first step toward cooperation between humans and kangaroos. Some greeted the news with cautious hope, others with outright suspicion.
“We’re trusting humans now?” Jaren asked loudly, his voice carrying across the camp as Koa addressed the group near the stream. His arms were crossed, his expression hard. “Did you forget what they’ve done to us? What they keep doing?”
Koa stood tall, his voice steady but firm. “No, I haven’t forgotten. But not all of them are like Ethan. Lorna’s people are fighting to survive, just like we are. They’ve lost just as much.”
“They’re weak,” Jaren snapped. “And we’re risking our lives for them? For what? So they can stab us in the back when it’s convenient?”
Nyra stepped forward, her spear resting against her shoulder. “We don’t need to trust them completely,” she said. “We just need them to help us fight Rook.”
“And when they turn on us?” Jaren shot back.
“They won’t,” Koa interjected, his voice cutting through the rising tension. “Because we won’t give them a reason to. This isn’t about blind trust—it’s about survival. If we don’t work together, we’ll lose everything.”
The murmurs among the group quieted, though the unease remained.
Jaren scowled but said nothing more, retreating to the edge of the group.
Later that day, as the camp busied itself with preparations, Sarah found herself pacing near the stream, her mind racing. She had pushed hard for this alliance, but the tension among Koa’s people was impossible to ignore. One wrong move could shatter everything they had built.
“Something on your mind?” Nyra’s voice broke through Sarah’s thoughts.
Sarah turned to see the kangaroo standing a few feet away, her sharp gaze assessing.
“Just wondering how long this truce is going to hold,” Sarah admitted.
Nyra nodded, her expression unreadable. “You’re not the only one.”
“What about you?” Sarah asked. “Do you think this will work?”
Nyra was silent for a moment, her ears twitching. “I think it has to. Otherwise, we’re all dead.”
That night, the camp was quiet, the shadows stretching long under the light of the half-moon. Koa sat near the edge of the basin, sharpening his blade with slow, methodical movements. Nyra joined him, settling onto the ground with a sigh.
“Long day,” she said.
“They’re scared,” Koa replied. “I don’t blame them.”
Nyra glanced toward the camp. “Fear can be useful, but not like this. If it gets out of hand…”
“It won’t,” Koa said, though his voice lacked conviction.
Nyra tilted her head, studying him. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
Before Koa could respond, a sharp cry echoed through the basin. Both of them sprang to their feet, weapons at the ready.
“What was that?” Nyra hissed.
Koa’s ears swiveled, pinpointing the source of the sound. “Near the supply shelter.”
They moved quickly, their powerful legs carrying them across the uneven terrain in seconds. When they reached the shelter, they found Tek standing outside, his face pale and his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“What happened?” Koa demanded.
“It’s gone,” Tek said, pointing to the open door of the shelter. “Half the supplies—food, water, medicine. Someone took them.”
Nyra stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room. Shelves had been overturned, crates pried open and emptied.
“This wasn’t just theft,” she said grimly. “This was sabotage.”
The camp erupted in chaos as the news spread. Accusations flew, tensions boiled over, and the fragile unity they had been clinging to began to fray.
“It had to be one of us!” Jaren shouted, his voice cutting through the noise. “Who else would’ve known where we kept everything?”
“You don’t know that,” Sarah said, stepping forward.
“Don’t I?” Jaren snapped, turning on her. “It’s awfully convenient that this happens right after you drag us into your human alliance.”
“Enough!” Koa’s voice silenced the argument instantly. He stepped into the center of the group, his eyes scanning the gathered faces. “We’re not going to solve this by tearing each other apart. Whoever did this wanted us to turn on each other, and we’re not giving them that.”
“But how do we find them?” Tek asked, his voice shaky.
“We don’t need to,” Nyra said, stepping forward. “They’re still here.”
The camp fell silent, all eyes on her.
“What are you talking about?” Jaren asked.
Nyra’s gaze was sharp, her ears twitching. “Whoever sabotaged us had to be watching. Waiting to see how we’d react. And they’re probably hoping we’ll waste time fighting while they slip away.”
Koa nodded, his expression grim. “Then we need to stay sharp. Nyra, organize a patrol around the camp. No one leaves without permission.”
“And if we catch them?” Jaren asked, his voice dark.
Koa’s gaze hardened. “Then we find out who they’re working for.”
Late that night, as the camp settled into uneasy quiet, Nyra moved silently through the shadows, her spear gripped tightly in her paw. She had posted guards at every entrance to the basin, but something still didn’t sit right with her.
She spotted movement near the northern edge of the camp—a figure slipping between the rocks.
Without a sound, Nyra followed, her powerful legs carrying her up the slope. The figure was fast, but Nyra was faster.
When she reached the top of the ridge, she saw them: a kangaroo with a small pack slung over their shoulder, moving with purpose toward the canyon’s exit.
“Stop!” Nyra shouted, her voice ringing out.
The figure froze, then bolted.
Nyra gave chase, her powerful strides closing the distance quickly. She leapt, tackling the saboteur to the ground. The pack spilled open, revealing stolen supplies.
“Who sent you?” Nyra demanded, pinning them down.
The saboteur struggled, but Nyra held firm. “Talk!”
The kangaroo spat at her, his eyes filled with defiance. “You’ll find out soon enough. Rook’s coming for all of you.”
The saboteur sat bound near the center of the camp, his defiance a stark contrast to the unease spreading among Koa’s people. The stolen supplies had been retrieved, but the damage was already done. Whispers of betrayal moved like a cold wind through the camp, each murmur further fraying the fragile threads of trust.
Koa stood a few feet away, his arms crossed and his face carved from stone. Nyra hovered nearby, her spear resting against her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the bound kangaroo.
“Rook’s people got to him,” Nyra said quietly.
Koa nodded. “That much is clear.”
The saboteur shifted, the rough cords around his wrists creaking as he tested the knots. He smirked when he noticed Koa watching him. “You should have joined Rook when you had the chance,” the kangaroo said, his voice dripping with mockery. “He’s stronger than you’ll ever be.”
“I’m not interested in his kind of strength,” Koa replied.
“Then you’re a fool,” the saboteur spat. “You think your dream of peace means anything? It’s nothing but a delusion. Rook knows how this ends, and he’s already won.”
“Why did he send you?” Koa asked, ignoring the barb.
The saboteur chuckled. “To send a message. To remind you that no matter where you hide, he’ll find you. And when he does, you’ll wish you’d taken his offer.”
Koa stepped closer, his voice dropping. “And what happens to you now? Do you think Rook will care when you’re not there to deliver your message?”
The saboteur’s smirk faltered for a moment, but it quickly returned. “I don’t need him to care. I know where my loyalty lies.”
Nyra leaned in, her voice low and sharp. “You’ll regret it before the end.”
The saboteur didn’t respond, but the defiance in his eyes dimmed just slightly.
The camp was restless that night. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements brisk and nervous. Inside the shelters, quiet arguments broke out, fueled by exhaustion and suspicion.
Sarah moved among the group, trying to calm tempers and reassure the frightened. She stopped near the stream, where Tek and Jaren were speaking in hushed tones.
“This alliance is a mistake,” Jaren was saying. “We’re making ourselves vulnerable for nothing.”
“We can’t do this alone,” Tek replied, though his voice was unsteady. “If we don’t try—”
“We’ll end up like that caravan Sarah told us about,” Jaren interrupted. “Dead. Or worse.”
Sarah cleared her throat, drawing their attention.
“Talking behind Koa’s back won’t solve anything,” she said, her tone sharp but even.
Jaren scowled. “And what will? More promises from humans?”
“This isn’t just about humans,” Sarah said, stepping closer. “It’s about survival. You’ve seen what Rook’s capable of. Do you really think he’ll stop if you bury your head in the sand?”
“And what if we’re just trading one enemy for another?” Jaren shot back. “What if this alliance gets us all killed?”
“That’s a risk we’re taking together,” Koa’s voice cut through the tension.
They turned to see him standing nearby, his expression calm but firm.
“Rook sent that saboteur to tear us apart,” Koa continued. “To make us doubt each other. And if we let him succeed, we might as well hand him the victory right now.”
Jaren hesitated, his shoulders tense. “You think working with humans will save us?”
“I think it’s our best chance,” Koa said. “But only if we trust each other enough to try.”
Jaren held Koa’s gaze for a long moment before sighing heavily. “I hope you’re right, Koa. For all our sakes.”
As the camp settled into uneasy quiet, Koa sat near the saboteur, watching him in the dim firelight.
“You had a choice,” Koa said after a long silence. “Why Rook?”
The saboteur chuckled bitterly. “Because he doesn’t ask for trust. He takes what he needs and leaves the rest behind. No speeches, no empty promises. Just results.”
Koa’s ears twitched. “You think he cares about you? About anyone but himself?”
“He doesn’t need to care,” the saboteur said. “He’s building something bigger than any of us. Something that will last.”
Koa shook his head, his voice quiet. “What he’s building will leave nothing but ashes.”
“And what are you building?” the saboteur asked, his tone mocking. “A dream? A fantasy? You’re wasting your time.”
“Maybe,” Koa admitted. “But it’s better than following someone who only knows how to destroy.”
The saboteur didn’t respond, his defiance faltering under Koa’s steady gaze.
The next morning, Koa addressed the camp. The saboteur had been moved to a secure location, but the scars of his betrayal lingered in the uneasy expressions of Koa’s people.
“Rook sent him to weaken us,” Koa said, his voice strong and clear. “To make us doubt ourselves and each other. But we’re still here. And as long as we stand together, we can fight back.”
“What if he sends more?” someone asked.
“Then we’ll stop them,” Koa replied. “We’ll protect each other, just like we always have. And when the time comes, we’ll make sure Rook doesn’t get another chance.”
The murmurs among the group quieted, a flicker of resolve returning to their faces.
Koa glanced at Nyra and Sarah, both of whom stood nearby. Their expressions were steady, and Koa drew strength from their presence.
“We’ve come too far to let fear break us now,” he said. “Rook can send his spies, his hybrids, whatever he wants. But this camp is stronger than he thinks. And we’ll prove it.”
The group nodded, their unease giving way to determination.
As Koa stepped away, Nyra walked beside him. “They needed that,” she said.
“So did I,” Koa admitted.
Sarah fell into step with them, her expression thoughtful. “Do you think this will hold?”
“It has to,” Koa said. “Because if it doesn’t, we’re already lost.”
The morning air was brisk, carrying with it a tension that had settled thick over the camp. Koa walked the perimeter with Nyra, their movements silent but deliberate. The saboteur’s presence, though contained, weighed heavily on the group. Trust was fragile, and the smallest spark could shatter it.
“We can’t keep him here forever,” Nyra said, her voice low. “The longer he’s around, the worse things get.”
Koa nodded. “I know. But we need to figure out what he knows before we decide what to do with him.”
Nyra’s ears flicked back. “If he’s telling the truth about Rook’s plans, we don’t have much time.”
“Then we’ll make the most of what we’ve got,” Koa replied.
The saboteur sat in the shadow of a rock outcrop, his hands still bound, his face expressionless. Sarah crouched in front of him, her gaze steady. She had volunteered to speak with him, believing he might be more forthcoming with someone who wasn’t a kangaroo.
“You don’t have to stay loyal to Rook,” Sarah said, her voice calm.
The saboteur chuckled bitterly. “You think I’m scared of him?”
“I think you’re smarter than this,” Sarah replied. “Rook doesn’t care about you. You’re just a tool to him, like everyone else who follows him.”
“And you think Koa’s any different?” the saboteur shot back, his eyes narrowing. “He’s playing the same game, but he’s too soft to win.”
“Koa doesn’t want to win,” Sarah said firmly. “He wants to end this war. There’s a difference.”
The saboteur leaned back against the rock, his expression skeptical. “You really believe that? That peace is even possible?”
“I have to believe it,” Sarah said. “Because the alternative is more of this—death, destruction, and people like you being used and thrown away.”
The saboteur’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Rook’s going to win,” he said, his tone defensive. “You’ll see.”
While Sarah worked to pry information from the saboteur, Koa called a meeting with Nyra, Tek, and Jaren to discuss their next steps.
“We need to decide what to do with him,” Koa said, pacing in front of the group.
“We already know what he’s doing here,” Jaren said bluntly. “He’s a spy. We should deal with him and move on.”
Tek shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t like it, but Jaren’s right. Keeping him here puts us all at risk.”
Nyra tapped the end of her spear against the ground. “He’s more valuable alive than dead. If we can get him to talk, we might learn something useful about Rook’s plans—or the hybrids.”
“And what if he’s just stalling for time?” Jaren countered. “What if Rook’s already on his way, and we’re sitting here wasting time?”
Koa stopped pacing, his gaze steady as he addressed them. “We don’t act out of fear. That’s what Rook wants. If we start making decisions based on paranoia, we’ll tear ourselves apart before he even gets here.”
The group fell silent, the weight of Koa’s words settling over them.
Finally, Nyra spoke. “We give it another day. If Sarah can get anything out of him, we use it. If not…” She trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.
Koa nodded reluctantly. “One more day.”
That evening, Sarah returned to the main shelter where Koa and Nyra waited. Her face was grim, her expression tight with frustration.
“He’s loyal,” she said, sinking into a chair. “Too loyal. I got bits and pieces—locations of supply caches, a few hints about the hybrids—but nothing that will help us right now.”
Koa frowned. “What about Rook’s movements?”
“Nothing specific,” Sarah said. “But he’s definitely planning something big. The saboteur made it sound like Rook’s consolidating his forces for a major push.”
“Toward us?” Nyra asked.
Sarah shrugged. “Toward anyone who gets in his way.”
Koa sighed, rubbing a paw over his face. “Then we’re out of time.”
The saboteur’s fate was decided under the cover of darkness. Koa called a meeting with the group, addressing them near the firepit where the hybrids’ remains still lay as a grim reminder of the stakes.
“We’ve learned what we can,” Koa said, his voice steady. “We can’t risk keeping him here any longer.”
“So we hand him over to Rook?” Tek asked, his tone uncertain.
“No,” Koa said firmly. “We let him go.”
The group erupted in murmurs, disbelief rippling through the crowd.
“Let him go?” Jaren asked incredulously. “You’re just going to let him walk away after what he’s done?”
Koa met Jaren’s gaze, his expression calm but resolute. “He came here to divide us. If we kill him, we prove him right. But if we let him go, we send a message: we’re not like Rook.”
Jaren scowled but didn’t argue further.
At dawn, the saboteur was escorted to the edge of the camp. His hands were untied, but his smirk remained intact.
“Smart move,” he said, his tone mocking. “Killing me would’ve been a mistake.”
Koa stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. “You tell Rook that we’re not afraid of him. And that this war ends when we say it does.”
The saboteur sneered but didn’t reply. He turned and walked away, his silhouette fading into the horizon.
As the camp watched him go, Koa felt the weight of their unease pressing down on him. He knew the choice to spare the saboteur wasn’t a popular one, but it was the only choice he could live with.
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