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"Fething farmers," Lyr found himself agreeing - apparently cursing was not the only thing the two youths had in common. But Lyr honestly wasn't thinking too much of that; Kenkuroi's words had set off a confused jumble of thoughts, emotions, and memories which Lyr had tried hard not to think about for the past few months and - until he'd set foot on hard land some brightenings ago - had for the most part succeeded.
"Nasty, that's not covering a single asses' tail! Borthanas, I'm glad they - Blueblossom - feth, a bunch of backstabbing numbsculls, that's what I think of farmers; just give me a farmer, I'll run him into Archaxetas, may the insects rip his head off! I'm telling you -" Lyr stuck an imphasizing finger at Ken - [b]"stay away from the lot of them. I thought it was a great place to get away from the... well, to get away; they take me in, make me their thane, and then what? 'No, Mr. Tlansson, we never got that paperwork' - 'no, Lord Thane, you didn't do anything, you just authorized it!' - 'no, Sir, bust your balls but you won't get even a scratch on the back all the same!'" Visions of Iris, of Marcus, of Lynessa all floated in his mind, vengefully struck down by a lightning bolt from Aslan - or now, even better, relegated to Turtas for eternal torment. And may they wish they had the change back again to make it right with him - Lyr'd hate them all anyway!
"The name's Lyr - Lyr Tlansson, I suppose, no fancy-pansy titles necessary anymore." The youth smirked bitterly. He'd run on at the mouth a bit, he realized, and without much provocation; furthermore, he'd probably told Kenkuroi more than the elf ever wanted to know about Lyr's past life in Trysvale; still, the man was helping him with Rose. For now. Unless he was planning on backstabbing too - but then, Lyr hardly knew anybody who would go back on a rich man... "At least I've got enough to get the kid a nurse who'll keep her quiet, I suppose." It came out, like the rest of it, without Lyr having exactly planned to say it - but it was true. By his own estimation, Lyr was hardly the pauper he'd been when he walked in to the small village on the northern Carmelyn peninsula.
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