Bracken waxes lyrical on the subject of fire:
So fire, eh? What I can breathe with my mouth. You want me to talk about fire? Is it because I’m orange? Well, alright.
It’s hot, fire. Very hot. As in, so hot you really don’t want to touch it. Unless you’re me, of course. I can touch fire, lick it, eat it. ‘Cos I’m immune, see? All part of the package. I breathe fire, I become cloaked in fire and I can touch it all I want. Smoke’s no bother, either. Everyone else should be careful of smoke because it chokes them and causes all sorts of trouble.
Met this kid once, what you’d call a teenager. He knew who I was ‘cos he’d seen my video, you know the one, where me and Fang asked people not to bomb the rats. Anyway, he says to me he’s obsessed with fire. Can’t get enough of it. Keeps playing with one of those funny little lighters of yours. I get bored of listening to him and breathe out and set his shoes on fire. He loved that, once he was over the shock. I will never understand you humans. You know fire’s dangerous, you know it kills, but you keep on using it like there’s no tomorrow. Some day it’ll catch up with you, you know.