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Aurin holds his mother's hand as she leads him from the street to his aunt and uncle's house. He's been here only a couple of times, and can't remember most of them distinctly; they're sort of awkwardly related, his dead father's half-brother and the wife thereof. But now they have a baby parunia, and that means there is a dragon related to Aurin who is not too far from his age, only thirty-one years younger. This is apparently the sort of relation that it will be particularly enriching for Aurin to meet. They can do this now instead of waiting a month, because parunias don't die when they're babies; this one is safe, unlike the miscellaneous cousins on his mother's side he's never met because they are all in too much danger to get attached to (and have all succumbed to that danger). So here they are. Even though it was a very long flight and he couldn't ride his mother for takeoff and landing when she had to be a heron, only for the middle part.
Alys knocks on the door.
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"Yeah, but still."
"Yeah."
Finnah sighs. "Get better," she tells him, and then she slides out of his bed and leaves him be.
He goes back to being a lump.
greatcomposure
The next day, Koridaar goes to pick up Aurin.
"Mial isn't feeling well," she says. "I think 'sad lump' is the phrase."
"Mial isn't feeling well," she says. "I think 'sad lump' is the phrase."
"Oh. Should I go over later then?"
greatcomposure
"It's up to you. He might stay a sad lump for quite a while this time; it's been going on more than a week already."
"Well, I'll come today, then."
greatcomposure
"All right."
She teleports Aurin to her house.
"He's in his room if you want to try talking to him."
She teleports Aurin to her house.
"He's in his room if you want to try talking to him."
Aurin nodes and goes to Mial's room. In what he thinks is a very considerate move, he doesn't knock, since Mial is being lumpy and might not want to be bestirred to let someone in. In he goes.
Mial is being so lumpy. A plate of breakfast, with some breakfast still on it, sits by his bed; he is curled up human-shaped wrapped in a blanket from which only his head protrudes, staring at the wall opposite the door, and he has no discernible reaction to Aurin showing up.
Aurin goes up to him and pokes him. "Hey."
"Hi, Aurin," he sighs.
"Wow, you're really pretty lumpy. Maybe I should throw you out a window again."
"I wouldn't even fly," he says dully. "I'd just go splat."
"Oh. Well, that's totally not the point of throwing you out windows. Why're you so lumpy?"
"Did nobody tell you?" he wonders.
"No-o, Aunt Koridaar just said you weren't feeling well."
"Oh."
He goes quiet for a tick or two.
Then he says, "We went to see a play and I wanted to tell one of the actors how great she was and get her autograph, except it turned out she'd been wearing a wig and she was a dragon not an elf, ninety-something it looked like, and I told her how great she was anyway because I don't have a problem with dragons but I kept talking to her and she thought I was a dragon and I said I was a shren and she screamed and the director told me to get out. And Mom took me home."
He goes quiet for a tick or two.
Then he says, "We went to see a play and I wanted to tell one of the actors how great she was and get her autograph, except it turned out she'd been wearing a wig and she was a dragon not an elf, ninety-something it looked like, and I told her how great she was anyway because I don't have a problem with dragons but I kept talking to her and she thought I was a dragon and I said I was a shren and she screamed and the director told me to get out. And Mom took me home."
Aurin scoops up Mial, blanket and all, and hugs him.
Mial sniffles.
"'m sorry that happened," says Aurin.
"Thanks," sniffles Mial.
"...but I don't know why you're being a lump about it."
"Because - because," says Mial.