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 Petpet Name: Flit Owner: larkspurlane Pet Name: Larkegg Breed: Palmplat About Flit: You know, usually petpets are supposed to be cared for by their pet. So I guess Larkegg and I are a strange case. I'm the petpet -- you can call me Flit, though 'hey you the walking palm tree' works too -- and weirdly enough, I'm the one running the show here. This may or may not be because Larkegg is, for all intents and purposes, completely useless. Baby pteries usually are. We don't really get out much. Larkegg rolls away on the slightest incline, you know. So walks in Neopia Central often become crazy Cheeseroller chases, except that a large egg replaces the cheese and a crazy looking palmplat chases it instead of a neopet. I lose so many feathers doing that it's not even funny. I have a bald spot but I'm not showing you where. I've gotten really good at wedging Larkegg into places so he doesn't roll away. I like to put him between the roots of the Money Tree. Then we sit together and watch people exchange blows over soggy bits of seaweed and rotten left boots. It's very entertaining. The Battledome ain't got nothing on this. Once when we were wedged between the Money Tree's roots together watching people go by, a big mutant lupe walked over. He thought I was free for the taking because I was, you know, sitting under the Money Tree. Larkegg got really angry. Have you ever been attacked by a baby pteri? Bet you haven't. Consider yourself lucky. I don't think anything makes as lethal a projectile as an angry baby pteri launching itself out of nowhere to hit you right on the schnoz. Oi! That lupe was seeing novas twirl around his head for weeks. We met him again recently. He says he hasn't been able to eat a piece of omelette since. That's baby pteries for you. Respect! I like Larkegg. He doesn't call me paranoid just because I'm a little bit nervous. Have I told you about the palm trees? Look at this thing attached to my rear. Yeah, you think it's my tail. Let me tell you. This thing ain't a tail. It's part of some nefarious plan. I don't know exactly what yet. Us palmplats, we're keen. We have, like, a sixth sense about some things. Malevolent vegetation is one of them. These palm trees follow us around and pretend to be tails. Why would a palm tree do that? Hm? Exactly. Something is up. No one believes us palmplats about the palm trees. They will come to regret it. Mark my words on this. Anyway. I take good care of Larkegg. I polish him with Krawk Claw Polish because they haven't made a polish for baby pteri eggshells yet. I tried Uni Horn Polish but Larkegg didn't like it because it had pink glitter. I brush his teeth -- I mean, beak -- every night. Well, I brush the part of his shell where I imagine his beak must be. His favourite toothpaste is the pea-flavoured kind. I guess that, because he's round and small, he has an affinity with peas. Flossing goes really fast with him too. One day, Larkegg is going to hatch into a pteri. I don't know when. He hasn't decided yet and, really, I'm in no hurry either. We live a good life together. I don't mind taking care of him. No one polished my shell when I was an egg, but I'm sure I would have appreciated it. When he grows up, I think I'll miss making sure he isn't rolling away. I'll miss sitting together for long hours wedged underneath the Money Tree, watching neopian citizens go about their business. I'll miss the flossing. But I think I'll like flying with him even better. We don't get out much now, but when he's all grown up, we are going to go places. I want to visit Meridell to see the real Cheeseroller field. We are going to have so much fun. I've got to run: I'm running low on polish and the grooming parlour closes soon. One last thing before I go. Remember: beware the palm trees. The palmplat looks his shoulder suspiciously. Then, in a puff of downy blue feathers, he scuttles hurriedly down the darkening street, his palmlike tail fluttering behind him.
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