"Than the Crossings on a busy day, or the center of a star, or a million factories on a thousand worlds," the Pig agrees. "I like it here, if only because I don't get so many wizards asking about the meaning of life. That just gets old."
"That's what I keep trying to tell them," sighs Chao. "Actually, I tell them to look the word up in their dictionaries. Would you like some more cookies? There's a kind of cookie with frosting they make at a small bakery in Saint Paul that I rather like."
Chao waves a hoof at a passing waitrat and describes the cookies in the Speech. Fairly soon the rat returns with a pile of chocolate cookies topped with flowers and faces in brightly-colored sugar frosting. "You don't happen to know who started telling people to ask me, do you? I'm sure it was at least one of the Powers, and I have my suspicions, but no proof yet."
"Never mind, I shouldn't have expected innocent-until-proven-guilty from you." Chao shakes crumbs off his snout. "So tell me a story, Raven. I know you've got good ones."
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He tilts his head almost comically far.
Then he grins.
"It is not a thing I often mind, no."
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"Well enough, I am thinking. It is quieter here than some places, yes?"
Raven has very strange standards, it would appear.
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"Also likely it is not so useful an answer. So."
Questions are better.
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Raven's grin is a little crooked.
"I do not think it is a thing I will mind, yes?"
Chao, it must be said, is very entertaining company.
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"Possibly Peach, yes?"
He is trying not to laugh.
"Some of them are not so good with humor, I think."
He has, it should be noted, already inhaled two cookies.
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Chao puts his snout directly on the plate and takes a cookie with his mouth. What, you want table manners from a pig?
"Have you got proof?" he asks between bites.
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"That, I think, is not so much a thing I bother with, yes?"
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