Rat Rat Armadillo Part Ways

"Are we gonna turn around," said the Armadillo to the rat? Rat just snuffled following its twitching nose rushing toward the miasma of offal piles, of excrement and defilement. "I prefer clean desert air,' said the Armadillo, this stink is overpowering. "Hungry" squeaked the thin rat. 'Yes hungry also" the armadillo agreed but the stench of feted air was becoming unbearable to him. After several miles they reached the town limits. Tent cities spread inward like a river of trash. Paths of degradations and endless skid-rows lay before them. Armadillo stood stone still, appalled, rat licked his trembling muzzle a thin saliva dripped from his crusted lips. "hungry" he muttered, racing onward. Armadillo shrugged, turned about to find a few wholesome ants under some rotting wood.