The animal who has a leaf in its mouth is not to be comforted. It chews on the leaf to keep bitterness fuzzing its geranium tongue. It believes itself to be under siege from internal parasites. It chews the leaf, and chews the leaf, in no real hope of a cure. It chews, yet never gets further than the stem. Believing itself forlorn, it shuns embraces. It shines bright gold with misery. Forgiveness is beside the point; this animal seeks justice. It demonstrates extreme patience while remaining uncondemned by the world. It is willing to wait for condemnation. If told its faults, it stiffens its back and walks on, chewing. It knows itself beyond improvement, so will not hear of its faults. It tries to get it right. It is never enough. It behaves as if wedded to a leaf the shape of a centaur's arrow. Such an animal makes a very faithful companion for those not seeking a pet. The animal who has a leaf in its mouth will stretch itself and vomit over one's feet, thereby getting rid of the leaf while making its one sure demonstration of trust.