Dim forgets grief quickly, too

Dim's forlorn look dissipated as quickly as smoke on a breeze. "BALAR!" he yelled, jumping up. "I happy you not drown!" Then his eyes fell upon the fire that had been crackling happily for at least half an hour now. "You find fire! Good Balar! Dim good tracker, but fire hard to find in wild." He nodded sagely. "When find fire, keep safe, well protect. Fire good!" He waddled towards the fire, clapping Balar hard on the shoulder as he passed, and plopped down cross-legged in front of the blaze, downwind from the flames. Smoke and cinders billowed around him, quickly mixed with white steam issuing from his damp clothes.

For a few minutes, he just sat, happy in the heat of the flames. His eyes were closed, a half-open smile hanging numbly from his lips. Then he suddenly perked up, as if remembering something, and began to rummage in the little bags hanging from his smoking pelt coat. "Where is... Dim knows I have... Aha!" He pulled out a twisted root with purple streaks running along its surface. "Balar!" he called. "I have dreamroot! Visions from smoke! Want to try?"