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"Okay," says Mial. "Like what? Another game?"

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"Or whatever," shrugs Aurin.

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"Dad, get another game," Mial says imperiously.

Avar goes and gets another game.
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Aurin knows this one! He does pretty well at it.

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Mial nevertheless trounces him ruthlessly. Again.

"Welcome to the club," snorts Avar.
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"You are very good at games for being tiny," observes Aurin.

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"I play a lot," says Mial. "A lot a lot a lot. I like games."

(His father - gets a look. Aurin might easily not notice.)
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(Aurin does not notice. Alys, looking on, notices, but does not ask.)

"We can play this one again."

They play that one again.
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Mial looks to be winning. Again.

"Anyway I'm not tiny," he says, circling back to the previous thread of the conversation. "Finnah is tiny. I am little." Proudly, "I'm a little menace!"
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"You aren't even any bigger than her."

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"I am too," he insists. "I'm this much bigger!" He demonstrates the difference in nose-to-tail length with his claws. It is not vast.

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"That's not even any."

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"It is even any! It's more than none! I am bigger than Finnah!"

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"You're still tiny."

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"Am not."

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"Are too. I'm like twice as big as you."

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He scoffs. "So what, Dad's lots times as big as you and he doesn't call you tiny I bet."

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"Well - well my mom is twice as big as him."

"And there are dragons twice as big as me," says Alys dryly. "It matters very little."
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"So I'm not tiny," Mial says triumphantly.

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"Are too."

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"Am not!"

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"You're tiny! I could pick you up."

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"My mom could pick you up."

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"Maybe we are both tiny."

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...Mial peers suspiciously at Aurin.

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