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The creatures were always so emotional and open, unlike my fellows and others of immortal races. It was always harder for our kind to enjoy the “now” than for humans.

Morrense nodded. He was accustomed to me pointing out the boundary between us. I guess those kind of comments slipped out unconsciously. They always had. Saying such things to separate myself from the more dimwitted residents of the human race was a survival instinct, and another burden of immortality. I would miss this old man, despite my best efforts, when his body grew too worn for the burdens of the world. He was older than me by only thirty years, myself being young by faun standards, but too soon I would pass him in age. I would live until an outside force – disease or injury – stopped me but I was not expecting to encounter either of those any time soon.

“Let me test my ‘inkling’ then.” I stood, brushing creases out of the soft, plant-leather coat that hung comfortably around me. “You need more medication for your leg, don’t you?” It was less of a question than an accusation, but the old man nodded cheer-fully again. Morrense had broken his right leg in his younger years, and it had never quite healed right. The constant, dull ache of improperly set bones was something I had never had to deal with myself, but to see a friend of mine in such pain was enough to make me wince.

“See? Your intuition is grand, young’un.”

“Maybe so, but if it was better, I would have known to go get more silver milkweed for the medicine this morning. I ran out making Sop-bombs last night.”

“Sop-bombs?” the old man raised a fluffy eyebrow. “What on earth are Sop-bombs?”

I puffed up my chest, always ready to explain my delving into the explosive elements of alchemy. “I came up with them last week! They burst when thrown, sending a pudding-like substance all over! That’s where the ‘sop’ comes from,” I finished, grinning proudly.

Morrense sighed, “What use do you have for pudding-spewing bombs in a place like this?”

The man could always steal my fire out from under me.

“Err… I’m gonna head out and get the stuff for your potion, then.”

He did not point out that I had changed the subject to save face, but I knew he realized it. Another reason I respected the old man: he was the only being in the