[ Too many goats in Indiana, too many goats here. But honestly, it’s more of a joke than anything that this point. He’s got endless quips about how if he were to fall asleep, he’d probably wake up missing a good four inches of hair thanks to those little living lawn mowers, or how the goat smell is permanently etched on him after a year of living here. He doesn’t love them, he’ll complain about them, but he really mind them at this point. They’re just background noise and part of the landscape. ]

Tell me about it.

[ He snorts and rolls his eyes, like he knows something neither River nor the goats know. Sure, they’re all going to die someday. Some of them already have and it’s really, really weird but they’re doing their best to handle it. ]

Uh, sure, I would agree with that, but what about the goats? Maybe they’d like to die in…I dunno, Cleveland or something.

[ You don’t know. ]