[The end of the event wasn't so much a relief for Cheyenne as it was the single most confusing thing to ever happen to her. Never mind that she had been so much younger. Never mind that for two weeks, the hunger was gone. Never mind that she saw colors and shapes and people and her friends and herself in the same way others have always seen. The
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You're doing all right, then, Cheyenne?
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It's odd how one can be so different while remaining as oneself.
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I was not born an illusionist, after all.
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I had no clue. I'd assumed you were always what you are, the idea of becoming it hadn't occurred to me.
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And I wouldn't expect anyone here to know, seeing as illusionists seem to be unique to the world in which I was created.
However, given that illusionists are entirely female and my kind ages at rather unsteady rate, reproduction would be quite impossible.
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Are there no mixed bloods to speak of? Regardless of the aging rate and whether reproduction is an option or not, surely your kind isn't against forming close relationships.
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Were I entirely like my sisters, we would not be having this conversation. For unlike them, I am capable of controlling my urge to feed. My kind did not receive the reputation of a monster out of superstition alone.
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I'm sorry, Cheyenne. I must sound so ignorant of your kind.
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Still, if there is ever anything else you would like to know, I have no problem with explaining to the best of my ability.
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[A pause.]
Actually, if you do not mind, might I ask you a question, Alf?
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