The sun hadn’t fully risen, and my eyelids hadn’t even considered opening. I lay there, not fully awake, grasping at the remnants of a fading dream. I sighed quietly and rolled onto all four legs. The movement of my body halted mid-roll when I bumped into something slightly rough, moist, and slightly cooler than myself. What the. . .? The object had moved!

My eyes flashed open, and my body sprang into action only to find a large gold and grey eye staring right back at me, taking up most of his vision. Danger sense, you should have warned me! This was not one of my prouder moments and if anyone asked about it in the future I would deny it, but I squeaked – an actual damn squeak, proving correct all the rat stereotypes.

“and if I hadn’t been scared shitless (quite literally, I’m afraid) I would have found both the tone and the volume most inappropriate for this early in the morning. “I thought you’d never wake up!”

Once on my feet, I sprang through the air and landed on the branch above me, nearly catching my rat-berries on a nasty clump of thornlike protrusions on the spiky bush. Beneath me, standing on the mossy stone with his hands on what would have counted as his hips, was a grey and orange lizard just like the one I saw meet its end the night before. What is going on here? Is there some sort of lizard convention? More out of a sense of self-preservation than any sort of planned out move, I shouted out, “Stay back, lizard!”

The lizard’s demeanor shifted from happy to deep concern. Lifting a front leg and pointing a single digit at the rat in the foliage above him, he demanded, “Who exactly are you calling a lizard, rat? I’m no reptile, of that you can be assured! Amphibians or die, mate!”

Oh oh, I know how these confrontations play out! I can’t afford to face off with this guy in battle, it’s not my strong suit, at least not in a one-on-one situation. I wonder if I can invoke the right of parlay? “Easy there, my non-lizard friend. I meant no disrespect to yourself or Amphibian-kind.” Thinking things through, I quickly realized that if the lizar. . . err, amphibian wanted to harm me he surely could have done so while I was still sleeping. Cautiously, with instincts honed over at least a hundred years, I studied the exceedingly cheerful-looking interloper.

Standing before me, with a swiftly returned wide, sharp-toothed smile, was some sort of lizard that wasn’t a lizard with a dark grey warty-looking back and a smooth, bright orange colored underbelly. The creature stood there patiently as if waiting for something. After a moment I began to assume he waited for me. I sighed loudly. I took a couple of deep breaths after I realized my role model, AKA my newish internal guide was always watching. Composing myself, I tried not to think of Matt Damon witnessing this whole scene and jumped from my branch, landing deftly a few steps back from the newcomer.

“OK, then, my friend. You’re not a lizard. What are you exactly and what the bloody hell are you doing in my bed?”

Oblivious to the scathing question, he responded as if the rat had asked in a completely different tone of voice. “Oh, hi! It is a great pleasure to meet your acquaintance! You are most observant as I indeed am no lizard. As I may have mentioned a few moments ago; I am an amphibian – a newt, to be specific. Newt Wellington, at your service!”

“So, you are a Newt Wellington? Can’t say I’ve heard of your kind before. Then again, I don’t get out much.”

“Oh no, silly! I am just a newt – a newt named Newt Wellington. My mother wasn’t very creative and she had a clutch of over twenty-five eggs, so when they got to me, the last, I suspect the well of naming inspiration had run dry.”

“Oh well, Newt, I am sorry to hear that,” I replied, wondering how the conversation had changed so abruptly.

“Fear not, my new rodent friend, for I love my name! After all, it seems that most creatures I meet will call me newt even before I introduce myself with you being the obvious exception. Speaking of which, where are my manners? What might your name be?”

I thought myself a good judge of character, and for some reason, I couldn’t help but want to like this. . . Newt. I guess a little honesty couldn’t hurt. “I am Rat Damon. And now that I think of it, I guess the one who named me was on a bit of a non-creative streak as well. Being named for our species is something we have in common.”

“That settles it, Rat Damon! I now declare us brothers!” and before I could even react, the newt grabbed my forepaw and shook it furiously, much in the same manner the humans use for greeting each other.

“Um, alright, that’s ahh, um. . .“ I had no words, so taken aback was I by Newt’s forwardness. I shouldn’t worry, surely this is a ceremonial greeting, right? Right?! “Um, thanks?” was all I managed to say in reply. Was that a tear in Newt Wellington’s eye?

Attempting to quell the weirdness this encounter was clearly full of, I decided to change the topic. “So, Mr. Wellington. . . “

“Please, call me Newt,” Newt interrupted, not letting his new mammal friend continue.

“Ah, alright. . . Newt. As I was trying to ask, do you come from some sort of nest of newts or something? It seems that there are some bobcats around here that have been aggressively harassing at least one of them.” There was no sense having too much candor in describing what happened to the little guy last night. “If disturbances in the general area are any indication, there may have been multiple violent encounters of this nature. I have scouted the area and determined such attacks have occurred many times.”

“Oh no, mate, I’ve been on my own for quite some time now.”

“Then what happened around here? It looks like the bobcats have been on some sort of murder spree all around this place!” I replied, visibly frustrated.

“Oh that?” Newt responded, seemingly not interested in the signs of multiple violent incidents.

“Yes,” I ground my teeth, trying, and failing to remain calm, “that!”

“I’m not sure why you would be interested in all that, but this area is where I have been negotiating a truce with the bobcats for almost three months.” Newt practically beamed in pride.

“OK, Mr. Wellington. . .”

“Newt!”

I almost growled but remained calm. Taking a deep, slow breath, I continued, slowly enunciating my next words. “OK, Newt, I don’t mean to be a bother, but what the bloody hell do you mean, negotiating a truce?!”

“Well, you see, Rat,” Newt somehow managed to smile extra intensely while speaking his new friend’s name, “I don’t mean to be humble, but I am a sort of expert negotiator, a peacemaker by profession. I am a pretty big deal around these parts!”

“Egotistical.”

“The what now?” Newt asked, clearly confused.

“You don’t mean to be egotistical, not humble; I think.” I clarified.

“No sir, I am pretty sure that I don’t mean to be humble. I’m the best peacemaker around!” Newt threw back his head and laughed. “Besides, I’ve had over one hundred successful negotiations and have the evidence to prove it. Just look throughout this valley. This is all my handiwork. Nobody even comes close.” Newt Wellington gestured to the various sites of what I would have considered crime scenes.

“So, old sport, you were negotiating with the bobcats?”

“Yes.”

“And you are trying to broker some sort of peace?”

“Yes!”

“And you are some sort of expert negotiator?”

“Why yes I am! At your service!”

“So, most of your negotiations have taken place in this very valley?” I continued, things starting to click into place in my mind.

“This very one, Rat!”

“So... how would you say the negotiations are faring so far?” I asked after a long pause, now dubious of Newt’s claim of being an expert negotiator,

“Oh my, Rat Damon, let me tell you. Things are going better than I ever imagined!” Newt became even more animated, if that was possible, as he began to describe his work. “The first time I came here, bobcats came up to me without me even getting a good look. I saw some feline-looking shadows and then BOOM, I woke up in the field next to an odd-looking stone in the ground on the opposite slope. I told myself those cats must have knocked me unconscious! Since I’ve always wanted friends I made it my mission, after discussing with Mom, to win them over.”

This guy lives in a different world than me, I to listen to the warren-collapse of a tale that was being told to me, unable to interrupt, feeling the need to hear this out.

“So, I waited until almost daylight and kept a look out for the bobcats. It was several hours before they came back this way again and I jumped up and down, flailing my arms, trying to grab their attention. They were obviously just as excited to see me as I was to see them since they began running toward me with great speed. I, of course, ran as fast as I could to meet them, as I felt just as thrilled as they did!

When we met this time, their exuberance got the best of them as the lead bobcat reached out in some sort of growling greeting with his mouth and accidentally bit me in half. It really hurt, let me tell you! Obviously, what I faced here was some sort of language barrier, so when I appeared again in the darkness, I vowed that I would get through to these excitable felines. Truthfully, this went about as well as the first two times since their aggressive greeting ritual once again seem to have ended with me dying, but you can’t keep a good Newt down! At least that is what Mom always says!”

I began to see the pattern in the newt’s tale but wanted to see this tale through to the end before asking some obvious questions. I just didn’t have the heart to interrupt when Newt was so obviously on a roll and enjoying the recounting.

“So, I did what I do best, I doubled down! Seventy-three more times to be exact. Finally, on the next attempt I made a real breakthrough. This time they didn’t kill me! At least not right away. It turns out that they did speak so I could understand, but I assume I had finally earned their trust, so they hadn’t chosen to speak to me until this point. At first, I thought they said ‘Die newt!’ but quickly realized my mistake because obviously they had said ‘Hi Newt!’ This is when I knew I had them right where I wanted them!”

“Why are you covering your face with your paw? No wait, obviously it is a sign of great respect! Anyway, since that point in our little talks, they had begun some ritualistic games where they would pretend to mock me in front of the others and make shows of aggression – you know, some very intricate form a social hierarchy amongst their kind. While this always ended up with me dying, which, by the way, isn’t as bad as everyone makes it out to be, I feel like I finally had a good handle on the mannerisms and interplay evident in their social engagements.” Newt beamed with pride, looking for affirmation from his new rat friend.

“So, whatcha think?” he inquired.

I remained motionless for some time, rubbing my forehead, face drawn tight together in what was apparently only to me as frustration, with Newt not making the connection. The amphibian waited expectantly for some manner of feedback, but I didn’t have the heart to give him actual, honest feedback. I think this calls for a different strategy.

With Newt obviously having failed with an abundance of confidence but a lack of skill, the situation had to be played with some delicate care. After all, the poor guy was getting tortured to death daily at the paws of the bobcats, and I had a soft spot in my heart for the underrat. Newt needed to be managed in such a way to divert him from the bobcat murder sessions and yet somehow feel like he had accomplished his goal of successfully negotiating with them. Obviously, Newt’s situation was like his own, as dying over a hundred times and not staying dead was not the norm. In fact, I had never met another soul who seemed to be seemingly immortal, like myself. I made the decision to help this Newt Wellingtion, whether he knew he needed the assistance or not.

Quest Offered: “Broker a Peacemaker.” Find a way to stop the bobcats from killing Newt Wellington. Reward: 500 experience. Accept? Yes or No.

Well would you look at that? A quest? Never had one of my own before! I looked around, half expecting something to happen, but all was normal. I closed my quest notification and got back to the task at hand. I had the beginning of a plan. It would be risky, but then again, most things were for rats.

“Well, Newt, I’ve got to say that you certainly are dedicated to your work. Most would give up after getting killed a lot less than you’ve managed to do.” Yes, a single death is the traditional maximum, but I won’t tell him that. “I feel like you have a solid foundation of a plan, but what you need is a fresh perspective, and if you humor me, I think I can help. It’s going to take a bit of theatrics on your part,” . . . and a whole lot of luck on mine! “But I think we can pull this off. What we need to do is communicate in a way they can understand. Clearly, the ceremonial greet-and-eat is their way of initiating a negotiation, and I think we can provide an opening statement of our own.” I laid out the plan and made Newt repeat each step back to me to be sure he knew his part. For someone so clueless, the newt caught on quickly. Must be a low-wisdom high-intelligence kind of guy, I guess.