#| short

      “ Where ...” did this wolf (dog?) come from? “ -- nevermind. ”

       “A little late for the training room, don’t you think?”

      “’Give me a sea, of dismal sheen, that takes me to me.’” His ribs are          full of inconsistencies, of madness and trickeries woven into each recited poem--          he trills to inspire. “It is rude to stare.”

      “’Hero of the dawn, healer of worlds--’ ah, what a surprise:           The Planet’s Chosen.”

      “Incontinence, malice, divine vengeance--  what more shall I hear from the          twittering bowels of Midgar? Why is it that we meet again, Fair?”

        “My soul, corrupted by vengeance,             hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey             In my own salvation,             and your eternal slumber.”

       “Nice gun,” mock-civility colours him; conversation is a rare boon,         “-- I have never looked upon one who wields so loosely. Does it         have a name?”