podfic Pet Rock

The third time that Finn finds the rock - the same rock? what the hell? - slipped deep into one of the pockets on his combat pants, he figures it must be deliberate. It's perfectly smooth on all the edges, flat, nearly round - a river stone, he thinks, turning it over in his hand, faintly pinkish with striations of white running in thin veins over the surface. It fits perfectly in his palm, under his closed fingers. He's seen it before - the first time he had been confused - had the laundry mixed up? Had he picked it up somewhere?

Someone wanted to know if Poe had a favourite rock he carried with him. The answer is yes, but sometimes he lets his favourite people carry it instead.