Keka, a dung beetle of little acclaim found the scorching heat and rolling of his pile sorely lacking. For a week more or less, wanderlust began to creep into his simple ganglion.

A possession of a name in itself lent a certain distinction amongst his kin, for the general clicks and clacks of his fellow insects found wanting of sentience.

As he rolled beside another, of which he had named Kekeke, for it is difficult with mandibles to formulate anything other than the bare minimum of clicks, he tried once again to communicate.

‘This heat, hey Kekeke?’ He tried hopefully.

Hitherto Keka had tried on multiple occasions to extract more then action or basic instinct replies from his stoic friend - he used the term friend loosely, for minimal communication would consider their relationship one of acquaintanceship rather than friendship.

‘It is hot’ Kekeke replied nonchalantly.

Now to you and I this may not be deemed a reply of worth, but considering all other attempts had followed with a simple click to instigate intention of searching for food or finding shelter, Keka had deemed this simple admission a massive improvement on yesterweek.

‘Hot yes,’ Keka said, his mind trying to ascertain how best to prompt further response, he had to speed his rolling to keep up with the indomitable Kekeke, who was much larger then Keka. Kekek’s carapace was a slightly darker shade of brown due to being warn by the sun, and his mandibles were grandiose in comparison.