Pheidippides is the sort of Dalmation who is all speed and pattern, counting spots between every breath. At sunset Pheidippides sits by the fountain steps in The Yard and hums to a pair of goggles claiming to see another layer of reality until the wind returns the favor. There is a corner of the flying den roof where Pheidippides is unofficially assumed to be in charge of nothing in particular. Pheidippides wants to be remembered as useful, loyal, and only mildly responsible for what happened near the satellite flowers field.