She found Monsanto by a pond. He was looking at his reflection, she assumed, because the water was absolutely still, and he was gazing down at it. At first, she didn't think that he had noticed her, but as she drew near, tears began to trickle down his nose, agitating the surface of the water. She didn't know what to say. Was there really an appropriate way to go about consoling him? She would have to choose her words carefully, or he might get the wrong idea. But how would she even begin?

Oddly enough, she did not begin with words. Instead, she moved towards him slowly, then rested her head on his lap. He was surprised by this, but when the shock wore off, he placed his hand on her snout, as daintily as he would if he were attempting to touch a soap bubble without popping it. She slid her front foot across wet leaves, stopping by his knee. They were essentially in a relaxed knot, as any movement from either party would be impossible without the cooperation of the other. It was beautiful.

Penumbra was tempted to close her eyes and fall asleep, but instead, she gazed into the reflective pool. The image of her and Monsanto was foggy, but her eyes compensated for the transparency, and it became clear as day in her mind. This sight made her smile, though it was a subtle expression. Their pose was a tapestry in the water, and this portrait made her wonder what their life could have been, under different circumstances. Perhaps if the genocide had never occurred, they would have met by chance and started a family. That was an impossibility now. Penumbra was sterile, and while she had never told a single soul, she was sure that Monsanto knew, and was aware of how she had come to be that way. But even that wouldn't have been enough to tear them apart, because she very well could have been satisfied with his love alone. Unfortunately, his biggest mistake was the deciding factor in how their story would end. He had murdered her mother, sparking her misguided desire to punish everyone with even a hint of guilt. She could never forgive him for that . . .

. . . could she?

Well, in a way, she already had. On paper, it might seem like she had every right to despise him, but the fact of the matter was, she kind of . . . sort of . . . really liked him. Over the past few days, he had proven to be a faithful companion, and while she could never forget his crime, she could try to understand what had driven him to commit such an atrocious act.

From what little she could piece together about his past, it would seem that he had been taken away from his family at a very young age, probably by soldiers. It was no wonder that he hadn't introduced himself with a last name. He had probably been stripped of his identity, just like her. This war had caused pain on both sides, and the worst part was that the scars would last far longer than the wound itself. Penumbra had spent her entire life trying to rectify the terrors she had endured, and so had Monsanto. Not only had he eventually overthrown his corrupt leader (according to Claire, who was most definitely being truthful), but he chose to help others after his death. Most importantly, he had declined the opportunity to rest in peace, instead sentencing himself to an afterlife of misery.

Penumbra understood him, at least a little. No matter how many good deeds he accomplished, it would never be enough to absolve him of his guilt. She remembered the agony in his eyes when he learned that the stegoceratops race had been wiped off the face of the Earth, and she saw her own misery reflected back at her. They wanted the same thing, in the end. For all their differences, there were ten times as many similarities . . . Well, perhaps not in their appearance, but since when did that matter? Claire had once claimed that humans and stegoceratopses were one and the same, because despite their conflicting appearances, they shared a similar genome. They were unified not by anything visible, but by the text in their blood: text that ran much deeper than words alone. The pond reflected a human and a stegoceratops, but more importantly, it reflected a man and a woman, who happened to be in love. And yes, they had been torn apart by the world around them, but ultimately, the choice to deny or accept their designated roles in society was theirs and theirs alone. Penumbra had made her decision. She lifted her head and grazed Monsanto's ear with her beak, whispering like smoke.

"Come with me."

He took a shallow breath.

"Why?"

"Because I'm asking nicely . . . and because I love you."

He was not moving, but it seemed as though he was trembling, secretly.

"Penumbra . . . I appreciate the offer, but I can't allow myself to forget what I've done. Now, more than ever, I deserve punishment. I'm staying here."

Penumbra snorted.

"Punishment? What good does punishment do? Yes, you'll suffer, but that doesn't solve anything."

"It might bring you peace."

She frowned deeply.

"Monsanto, I don't want you to be miserable. That would only make things worse."

He gulped, turning back to the pond. His reflection did not make sound, of course, but it spoke with him, regardless.

"I don't know how to make things better."

Penumbra grabbed him by the collar and stood him up forcefully.

"You can start by coming back with me. Instead of wasting your time here, you can make a real difference by helping me and the rest of my people find a home. You're not leaving until I say so, okay? You owe me."

He blinked rapidly.

"Penumbra-"

"Call me Penny, and don't argue. I've made up my mind. I'll drag you, if I have to, but I'd prefer it if you'd walk on your own."

He stared at her for a very long time.

"You're serious?"

"I am. I wouldn't have come back, otherwise."

He ran his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth with sharp steps.

"I . . . This is so complicated."

"It doesn't have to be. Come with me, and we'll work this out together."

He shook his head.

"Penny-"

She grabbed him and gave him a kiss. He flailed around in a way that resembled drowning, only he was on solid ground, and in no danger whatsoever. Penumbra ended the kiss, licked his cheek, then scooped him up with her horns. He scrambled off her face and brushed himself off.

"Fine. I'm coming. You don't have to drag me. I still think it's a bad idea, but I can always come back here if you end up regretting your decision."

She smiled.

"Something tells me I won't. We'll see, though . . ."

The earth trembled.

". . . if we make it out of here alive."