and sees a bar up ahead. The horse walks into the bar and sees a shadow serving drinks.

“Ah, look who came crawling back! Potuous, my man, how’s it been?”

Potuous, the horse, slides his credit card across the counter and grunts.

“Heard you got a job at manufacturing,” says the shadow as it fills a glass of scotch. “How’s that working out for you?”

Potuous neighs.

“Nay? Alright, I get it. Not every gig’s a walk in the park.” The shadow pushes the glass over, and Potuous sinks his muzzle into it, splashing and gulping away. “I’m sure it’s not all bad, though. I mean, you didn’t end up here by choice. I, I assume.”

The glass falls off the counter and shatters, but the noise dissipates between the notes of the music box in the corner.

“Who the hell are you?” Potuous groans.

The shadow chuckles. “C’mon, Potuous, it’s me! Oh, come now, don’t tell me you don’t remember who I am. We were best pals in highschool! Freshman year? Matching yearbook photos? We, uh, we wrote a book together! Well, it was mostly you, heh, I just gave you the idea.”

Potuous tilts his long face at him. “…Right. Corvid, was it?”

“Damn right. I knew you’d remember me.” Corvid takes out another glass and fills it up. “So how did you end up here?”

“I’m moving. Just stopped by for a drink.”

“Moving? Where to?”

“Onwards.”

“Ah.” Corvid quickly pours himself a shot glass. “I’ll cheers to that.”

Potuous doesn’t drink. He watches as Corvid clinks the glasses and downs his hastily-crafted cocktail. A shadow can’t ingest liquids; it spills all over the floor, but Corvid covers up his shame with a smile. “Heh. Still not used to it.” He grabs a towel and crouches below the counter, still within earshot of Potuous’s heavy sigh. The horse taps his hooves absent-mindedly, appearing to be happier in a different place.

And so the two of them spend the next few minutes in silence, making sure to avoid eye contact but not knowing why. At least, Corvid doesn’t know.

“Well,” the shadow finally says, “it’s funny you should come round here now, since—”

“I really don’t enjoy your presence.”

“…oh.”

“Look, just give me the tab. I’ve got things to do.”

“Yes. Right.” He pulls out a paper slip and quickly jots down the bill. “Well, it was nice seeing you again.”

Potuous takes his credit card and leaves quietly, returning to the transfinite continuum. Corvid wishes to say something to his friend, but doesn’t know what to say. They part ways in silence.

He sighs and goes back to mopping the floor. A lizard woman walks up to him, tilting her head as if in pity. “Why the long face?”

“I… I don’t know. I feel like I’ve changed. For the worse. I feel as if there was something in me that I liked about myself, and that I’ve lost it. I don’t know.”

“Honey, don’t let that quadruped SOB get on your nerves. He’s a figment of the past.”

“I knew he would come here. I was so excited to see him again. Now I’m… I feel… I feel nothing. I’m not the person I want to be.” Corvid turns to look at her. “It’s not too late, is it? I can still… Things can still change, right?”

“I dunno what to tell you. You’re literally a shadow. If you wanted to be a better person you should’ve thought of that before you…” She makes an odd gesture with her claws.

“Right. I suppose it is too late to change much of myself.” He pours two glasses and slides one to the lizard girl.

“Wanna shag?” she says.

“Sure.”