But a chipped fragment.

"Your name is Rocky?" I said. He said, "That's what I said, yes." I smirked a bit, I think--probably something that appeared too shocking--and said, "That's funny. You know, I just met a raccoon yesterday." He didn't blink once, and asked, "What does that matter to me? What's funny about it?" Nevermind, I thought. I had no proper approach. I met this fellow the next day here, because it is the nature of the world to bring its own striking brand of twisted humour to one's feet, but only just as one begins to become confident of a kind of security. "So, do you need me to put you on the side of the road then?" This time he did blink. "Now, why would I need you to do that? Does it look like I want you to put me on the side of the road?" "Well, I just thought it might be a better way to deal with cars or trucks." His toes were long, sharp nails, like his beak. Every part of him looked harder with each moment. Even his tail looked sharp now. "I suppose it looks more like you could use a lift, since you're not even directed towards either ditch. Where are you headed?" But it was too late, and he didn't seem to be paying attention to me anymore.