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"Thank you."

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"You are welcome," Cricket says magnanimously.

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"You don't speak as if you're afraid I will smite you where you stand, and say whatever you like with no regards for my opinion. This is an admirable quality."

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"I have no regard for most opinions," says Cricket, licking one of his forepaws. "Most opinions are terrible and even the ones that are not are not particularly important usually."

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"Yes. I have no patience for those lacking spines."

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"If you smote people who disagreed with you that would make your opinions worse, not better, anyway."

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"They would, indeed. I would not be worthy of any sort of respect, if my opinions couldn't even stand up to a simple challenge."

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"And then anyone who knew about your smiting behavior ought to be fomenting rebellion instead of talking to you at all."

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"And rightly so."

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"Yes. But that is not how things are," Cricket purrs.

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"Thank you," says Rae. "May I pet you?"

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"Yes. In the correct direction of my fur."

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"Of course."

Pet, pet, pet. While still flying. It's a nice view.
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Cricket purrrrrrrrrs.

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Pet. Pet pet.

"I am willing to offer you one of my blessings," says Rae, conversationally. "I can offer enhances reflexes, flexibility, wind that will aid you, better endurance, a decreased need for water, or safety from the desert's troubles of hot sand or sunburns."
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Cricket contemplates this offer, then says, "I would like helpful wind."

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"Okay."

And lo, Cricket was blessed. There isn't a noticeable difference, because the wind was already being pretty helpful around Rae, but later it will probably be helpful.
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"Thank you," purrs Cricket.

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"You're welcome."

Flying, flying flying.
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And that is when Edarial looks out the window.

".... Iobel?" he calls, confused.
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"Yeah?"

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"Why is Cricket flying with a - new friend?"

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"Oh - Rae came through, agreed not to talk to anybody who doesn't already know about multiverses, I sent Cricket along to sort of supervise."

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"... Rae is the. The literal god, isn't he."
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"Yes. Spring doesn't seem to think he's dangerous or anything."

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