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Untamed Sparkling Flitter
5a4bc5
>>487574
I Take from the villagers I pass, nibbling mote after mote as I walk haltingly behind Spidrift.
They are delicious.
I am incensed.
I want more.
I want all.
But restraint, I tell myself. Aching, desperate restraint.
"Why does your soul not look like the others?" I whisper to Spidrift as I catch up to him.
"You have long since devoured all but the Core of my soul, milord, the part that keeps me alive," he says, a little too loud for me to be comfortable about it.
"Are you my sworn servant or the town crier, Spidrift? Hush."
"Sorry, milord. The Residue grows back, given time, but you prune mine with great frequency."
"Can I feed on the sleeping? The braindead?"
"Oh, yes, milord, anything with a soul is your fodder. How do you feel?"
"Hungry," I answer truthfully. "Ravenous."
"We'll go around town a while longer, then, until you have had your full."
"How much money do we have, Spidrift?"
"On me? Thirty lira, milord. Shall we buy something, somewhere? This village has a blacksmith, an alchemist, an enchantress, even, although I wouldn't trust the quality of anything a country bumpkin spellweaved for you!"
"Inside voices, Spidrift."
"Sorry, milord!"
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