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brrroken sssomething I’ll need laterrr. Urrrh. Food?” he asked, ears flicking forward. “Or isss it what you brrrought lassst time?”
    “Uhm. It’s not the, ah, exact same as last time. Some of it’s new colors. And I brought some bread that didn’t turn out right, but they didn’t want me to tell you that. They figured, if you didn’t know it was burned, you’d maybe think it was a treat.”
    Kelvren’s eyes went to slits and he stood up on all fours, but kept his head down as he exited the tent. As he came out into full sun, despite the haze left from the heavy rain before, he swung his head to bear dead on the village.
    “A trrreat. I am wearrry of thisss disssrrressspect. You. Boy. What isss yourrr name?”
    “Boy. I mean, that’s what most people say to call me, is Boy. My full name’s Jeft Roald Dunwythie. The Roald part’s named after the king, o’ course. No relation. But like I say, most everyone here knows me as Boy. So I’ll answer to that if you want.”
    “Hurrrh. Do you like being called Boy?” Kel asked.
    “It’s not as if I have to like it, sir. Boy’s what they call me.” At the gryphon’s unblinking gaze, he finally admitted, “No, I don’t much like it. My mum gave me a proper name and, if it’s good enough for her, it should be good enough for anyone else. If things was right. But things ain’t so perfect in this life. They are as they are.”
    Kelvren turned away. Half a minute passed before he returned his gaze to the young man. “Jeft Rrroald Dunwythie, if you learrrn nothing elssse frrrom me, I wisssh it to be thisss. Hold it clossse to yourrr hearrrt and never forrrget it. It doesss not matterrr what otherrrsss call you, asss much asss it matterrrsss what you anssswerrr to.” The gryphon limped away heavily, and stamped some tallgrass down on the other side of the tent for several minutes. He shook out his feathers, feeling renewed strength despite his restless innards. His anger and pain were transitioning into resolve, and a Plan. “And asss sssoon asss I am done making rrroom, we arrre going down therrre to get my next meal. If they expect a rrrampaging monsssterrr, they’ll find out I am not that. They’ve ssseen me hurrrt and delirrriousss, but I ssswearrr to you—they’ll neverrr forrrget what I am like when I am hungrrry, annoyed, and deterrrmined .”
    Kelvren Set into the first part of his Plan. Principles of magic , he thought, learned early on. Transmutation. Turn what is useless into what is usable. He hobbled toward, and then past, his companion. If I cannot preen for beauty, then I will preen for effect. He laboriously groomed—badly—wincing several times from the persistent agony of his wounds. He took a few deep breaths and stared up at the sky when he was done. If I am going out of this life, he thought, I am not going as a disrespected animal shoved away to rot. If I die, I am damned well going to do it with a full belly, and the satisfaction of knowing I ruined some idiot’s day.
    The gryphon limped around to face the young man. Bandages askew, feathers at all angles, and his stitches exposed, he looked to be in poor shape to anyone’s eyes.
    “Brrring your sssack, Jeft. Time forrr fun.” Jeft did just that, crashing along through the tallgrass and brush to catch up. “Why arrre you ssso disssresspected that they give you the worrrssst jobsss?”
    “It’s my face, I think. I’m not any different from the other younglings here, ’cept my face.”
    “What isss wrrrong with yourrr facsse?” Kel asked, pausing ostensibly for Jeft to close in on him, but in reality, it was because he was having trouble moving well. His right side haunch folded up on him, and jarred his lanced shoulder badly, eliciting a short whine. “It looksss fine to me. You have good marrrkingsss.”
    “That’s just it there, sir, these, uh, markings,” he confirmed as he stopped beside the gryphon, pointing at the splotches that randomly covered his face.