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"-how far does your disrespect extend towards the one who has nurtured and grown you beyond the pitiful little flame you were?"
"You-" Illuga feared Flins might explode. "You did not birth me, Noy," the words breezed through his teeth so clenched they were almost a whisper, hands shaking and flexing in an attempt to express–something.
"Impertinence of youth," Noy turned to look up at the sky, voice mournful. "This is what I receive for my century of effort, denial of all my sacrifices—all the hair I lost, smudging of my reputation."
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